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Sunday, October 25, 2015

Come Step Inside My Home!

Husband, Scotto, leaves on Wednesday to travel to the Gold Coast, 1433.7 kilometres away to start his new job. He was supposed to go last week but his trip was delayed.

It'll be seven weeks before I see him again and I’d planned to go on a diet, have some light plastic surgery done and surprise him with a youthful, slim wife for Christmas.

I don’t think it’s going to pan out that way however, as I already have two long lunches, at least five dinner engagements and two Christmas parties locked into my diary and he hasn’t even left yet.

In the meantime I’m going to have to deal with the open house palaver on my own. I’ll have to wrestle the dogs all by myself and drag them to the park bench across the road while the house inspections are on. 

Pablo the Chihuhua goes off his nut barking every time he spots a random sightsee-er potential buyer walking into the house, so I have to stick him under my t-shirt in order to block his view.

The blooming, young mother to be!

It’s like being pregnant with Rosemary’s Baby.

Hey! I just realised, I haven’t shown you my house since I cleaned the last thirteen year’s blood, sweat and tears off the walls, have I? 

Okay, enjoy your annotated tour!

My bedroom. This is where all the erotic action happens. It’s where all the titillating stories originate. It’s where I type my blog posts. What...

See that vase of flowers, the cheeky throw rug and the colour co-ordinated pillows and towels? Well they’re fake. Our real estate agent, Nettie, loaned them to me and they only come out for open house. Normally there’s a naked Chihuahua and Fox Terrier languishing across the bed like a couple of Playboy centrefolds.

This is my ensuite. It’s where the kids would shimmy up the laundry shute and appear like subway rats when they needed to break into my locked bedroom (while I was out) to get money for the Mr Whippy van they'd hailed down.

This is the parent’s retreat attached to the bedroom. It’s where I kept my loose change which used to inexplicably disappear on a regular basis.

This is our theatre room where Scotto and I watch Netflix movies and drink wine on Saturday afternoons. It used to be the kid’s lounge room but we had to get rid of the old couch because a family of angry bandicoots had moved in underneath it due to the massive amount of half eaten food the kids had stuffed down the back of the pillows.

This is my kitchen. Noice, eh? The entire counter top had to be replaced a couple of years ago because Thaddeus nuked a plate of chicken and left it on the counter causing an extremely large, crop circle like scorch mark.

I cooked enough spaghetti in this kitchen to reach Italy and back. One night Thaddeus and Hagar got into a fight and a plate of said spag bol was launched as a missile. It took me three years to clean up. 

This is the space between my kitchen and the theatre room. It contains the cupboard under the stairs which we rent out to a bespectacled kid with a weird scar on his head.

The room under the stairs...

This is my dining room (centre piece courtesy of our charitable real estate agent). 

This is my laundry. It’s the access point to the laundry shute and place where naughty, barky Chihuahuas get locked up when visitors arrive. 

This is my hallway entrance. The barrier on the stairs is to prevent Chihuahuas and Fox Terriers sneaking upstairs to have unsupervised naps on my bed.

This is my ‘good’ lounge room. It’s empty because the real estate agent told us the ‘good’ couch was so unsavoury that no amount of cushions and throws would revive it and we should burn it immediately. It makes a great Saturday night dance floor after our Netflix movies have finished.

This is my outdoor area. We had a baby shower here which finished at midnight and my friend Shazzy danced on my table and cracked the marble insert a week after we’d bought the table. We sent the pregnant girl (who was the only one not intoxicated) up to the bottle-o to get more booze when we’d run out. Best baby shower ever.

Shazzy's Crack (knew I'd get her back eventually)

We had the music teacher, Kyles and her husband, Troy’s fortieth birthday party here too. My colleague, JB, snapped a palm tree in half when someone was trying to push him in the pool. Another friend fell over in my lounge room whilst doing the Nutbush and broke the wooden blinds. Ah, the memories.

We also celebrated Thaddeus, Jonah and Hagar’s 21st birthday parties here and Lulu's 18th. I'm fairly sure the neighbours will be glad to see the back of us when we sell.

This is my favourite part of the house... my hideously expensive front lawn and my arch nemesis, the flame tree.

It's always inundated with rainbow lorikeets eating the red blossoms these days. I'm trying to get one of them to poop on me because isn't that a good omen.
It might help me sell the house.

Hope you enjoyed the tour. Know anyone who wants to buy a house?