Everything is falling into place and we are now actively trying to sell our apartment and planning the logistics of our move. We are packing things and looking at paint colors. I say this not only to keep the Molliblog updated but to explain why we have been, still are, and will continue to be difficult to communicate with by phone, skype, and even email during this period: we have to keep the apartment in top form for showings, will be dashing up to the house when we can to paint, garden, clean gutters, etc, running the errands required to get the stuff required to do those things, and take care of all the legal, financial, and other tasks involved in the selling of our apartment and the purchase of the house. All of these things come on top my more than full time job, Trine’s more than full time education, and Molli Malou’s considerable destructive powers. (Estimated time from conversion of spotless apartment to whirlwind of wreckage upon introduction of Molli Malou into the environment: 3-8 minutes.)
We spread the word of our apartment being for sale yesterday through an online posting, a mass email, and notices shoved into the mailboxes of our neighbors and already have two showings set for tonight and one for Saturday. It does not appear like it will be a hard sell. We are even hopeful we may be able to sell the apartment before our original target of July 1. We might be able to move well before then.
Meanwhile, two quick Molli Malou anecdotes.
One busy night last week I was on my own with Molli Malou for dinner. Since I was alone with her we had decided to order out, although I obviously couldn’t go and do pick-up at the usual place. So we ordered online. Delivery took forever. After half an hour of waiting Molli Malou was practically crying for her fish filet and fries. I kept telling her the pizza man would show up any minute, even as I was losing faith myself. Finally, after about 45 minutes, Molli Malou turned to me with a scowl, shook her head, and growled, “That damn pizza man!”
The other is less an anecdote than an emergent behavior. It has long been Molli Malou’s habit to concede a point by saying, quite seriously, “Okay,” and then repeating whatever you had just said, along these lines:
“Daddy, why you’re putting your jacket on?”
“Because I have to run to the store, honey.”
“Okay. You have to go to the store.”
But lately she’s added a new arrow to her quiver. If she’s either skeptical or indifferent to what you say, she abandons the old “okay”-and-repeat format and simply says, “If you say so.”
“Daddy, why there is writing on the wall there?”
“It’s vandalism, honey. Graffiti. People aren’t supposed to write on walls like that.”
“If you say so.”
And she can pull a reverse on you, too, using the phrase the way she will someday sigh weary “whatevers,” as she did the other day to me:
“Daddy, this [model of one of our designer lamps] is the baby. That [the lamp itself] is the mommy.”
“That’s very cute, honey! They do look alike. The little one is a model of the big one. They are kind of like a mommy and a baby, that’s very cute of you to notice it.”
Moment of silence.
“If you say so.”
I should also add that Molli Malou is now one meter tall. She is therefore more than half as tall as me. So how come I’m not just twice her weight? Should I really just weigh sixty pounds? I have even more weight to lose than I thought!
Good Stories. Made us both smile. Hope all goes well. AML Dad