I raised my fingertips to the doorbell and went to press it when suddenly I was rugby tackled to the floor by two six year olds who were tearing at each other’s hair to try and have the indescribable pleasure of ringing the bell.
Rumour has it that ringing a bell, pressing a lift button, or pulling the cord on the bus gives the same amount of pleasure to a child that Fifty Shades of Grey gives to a middle aged married mother of three, but I wouldn’t know anything about that….
“It’s my turn” screeched twin girl; her cheeks flushed crimson red;
“You. Did. It. Last. Time” bellowed Twin boy as he elbowed his womb buddy in the ribs.
In unison they both turned to me and howled “mummy” with a scream that seemed to crack the window panes beside us.
Ignoring the fighting, writhing mess that was my oldest offspring I picked up my youngest child and beamed with satisfaction as she thumbed down hard on the doorbell whilst grinning at her siblings.
“My turn” she declared with a winning third child smile.
Soft footsteps of an estate agent padded towards the door and I pulled my face into my we are a perfectly normal family expression (which makes me look a little like I have had Botox); behind me I heard he who helped create them desperately trying to bribe the children into giving good behaviour.
The door cracked open and a tall, slim baby faced estate agent peered out and took in the sight of us, a beaming BB, twin boy with hair sticking out at all angles and missing a front tooth, twin girl looking like she has just rolled on the floor (she had) and a very stern faced, not impressed he who helped create them.
“Welcome” he cried throwing his hand into mine and pumping my arm in a way only estate agents can manage. “Come in, come in, have a good look around, don’t worry about me showing you, go and explore.”
Not the wisest thing to say to two six year olds, a toddler and two exhausted parents who were beginning to think moving may not be such a great idea after all.
Bb hobbled off at breakneck speed in search of a cupboard in which she could clamber in and then scream the place down when she got stuck, Twin boy launched himself up the stairs cupping his buttocks tightly crying “I will check out the toilet” with a pained it’s coming expression on his face and Twin girl went to look for worms in the garden…..
I left he who helped create them talking shop and went to ‘explore’ the fridge to see if the previous owners had left any wine by mistake…..
As I poked around cupboards and studied floor space I heard the estate agent enquire about the state of our sale and how it was progressing. As twin boy flew out of the now unpleasant smelling bathroom crashing the toilet door into the side of the wall with an almighty smash the Agent then questioned as to whether we needed home and life insurance and recommended comparethemarket.com. As he watched twin girl pad worm seeking hands around the French doors he also said he could let us know of a good cleaner if needed.
If you haven’t guessed, we are moving!
It has been a fairly uneventful year thus far and the summer holidays seem a perfectly non stressful time to try and sell our home, find a new one and move in. Plus as we are starting to find out the kids like house viewings almost as much as they love soft play…..
Still am not sure the Estate Agent from today will be pushing us to buy, Twin Boy’s parting words in the street as we left following getting BB from her cupboard and emptying twin girl’s pockets of worms were,
‘We are not living here; it stinks like my poo….’
God help our new neighbours…..
It could be you!