
So today when a realtor walked in to show a client our house and I popped out from behind the couch, desperate Seeker sweat pouring down my face and with the house phone to my ear, I don't think it helped the cause. The realtor started to introduce herself, but I broke in,
"Wait. Do you hear anything? Do you hear a phone?"
I shimmied around on the floor, calling myself on the phone and trying to make out any vibration sound from under the couch cushions. Always selling, the realtor helped me, moving to various areas of the house to listen. She didn't sell our house today, but I sold crazy.
I'm learning it's only four-year-old Blake who can help in such times. He's dialed in to the toddler mind, and predicts Gracie's plots from his own past experience. Two days ago, he found my cell in the back of Michael's closet, underneath a pair of his shoes. Today, we finally found it buried in cords in the office. Blake's wallet is expanding, as the rewards pour in.
I wish I could program Gracie to outgrow this fun new game. Is there an app for that?
Haha! An app...funny :)
ReplyDeleteLove reading your blog :) miss seeing you guys around!