Not the kind of cave man I bet you were thinking. He doesn’t swing a club or hunt woolly mammoths, but let me explain.
On our last move, when our buyer’s agent asked us to tell her about what we wanted in our new home, we went through our priority list with her. For me, I look for a beautiful kitchen with lots of light and windows and great schools in walking distance for the kids. I thought we had a pretty clear handle on this thorough list when my husband uncharacteristically blurted out, “and I want a cave!”
“Literally a cave?” our sweet realtor inquired with a mildly concerned look on her face and a glance at me.
Did I pout like Carrie did in SATC2 when Big wanted his “two days?”
No, because for the most part after a decade and a half of marriage we each really accept (or try to accept) each other’s needs and quirks.
Instead, amelioratively, I laughed and explained that what he really meant was a place within the house to escape the hubub of family noise and craziness. And we have plenty of both in our house, noise and craziness.
So in her good natured manner, at each prospective house we were shown, our realtor would announce with a smile things like, “there you go, Mike, here’s your cave.” in one house, or shaking her head, “this is a nice house at a fair price, but no cave…” She was such a good sport.
Within a week we found the right house for our needs, and these days you’ll find me enjoying my bright kitchen, the kids thriving in their new school, the dog frolicking in the fenced yard, and more often than not, the husband contentedly reading or playing guitar in his “cave.”
Proof positive that a good real estate agent can find a great house, even one for a cave man.
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