I will be asking my realtor to post the following letter to our home description. What do you think?
Dear Potential Buyer,
My husband and I would like to thank you for your interest in purchasing our home. I promise that if you look beyond the ragged cat furniture and litter boxes, you will discover a beautiful and well-maintained residence that was once featured in The Commercial Appeal’s Real Estate section (because they ran out of nicer homes).
It hasn’t been easy. The moment we decided to market our home, my once-domesticated compulsive cleaning habit became unbridled. This relapse has frustrated my husband and caused the manufacturer of my generic Xanax to re-align their figures for supply and demand. I crawl in bed exhausted every night from either scrubbing the grout of the kitchen/bathroom tiles with a toothbrush, sweeping the house after finding just a speck in the hallway, or wiping all baseboard corners with a damp Q-tip. But the burden is worth it so that we can buy a home with an extra five hundred square feet for the cats to destroy.
Our current house is in a great neighborhood, but due to full-disclosure, I am required to mention the property’s flaws you won’t find on the listing. Unfortunately, these are blemishes that my compulsive cleaning cannot remedy.
First of all, you will often find a large, chatty cat in the back yard. Do not be alarmed. The cat belongs to a neighbor. It loves pettings and attention, but be warned; the cat is fucking crazy. It allows physical attention for exactly 1.25 minutes before it screams, falls to the ground, and kicks itself in the face. The first time this happened, I thought I broke it. As it used its hind foot to repeatedly punch itself under the chin, I slowly backed away, went inside, and locked the door with every intention of playing dumb in case anyone asked why a cat was spazzing on the steps of our back door. I saw it the next day, so I guess it was okay. I assume that petting it for too long is the equivalent of touching an autistic kid’s ears. My recommendation is to enjoy its brief company from afar and, for the love of Martha Stewart, don’t let it inside your home.
If you are fortunate enough to be enslaved by a cat of your own, keep the kitchen cabinets closed. Last year, I discovered that there is a hidden gap in the wall of the one near the stove when I lost Mr. Tiddles one evening. At first, it was like a magician’s trick. I watched Mr. Tiddles wander inside the cabinet. The cabinet door closed behind him. When I opened it two seconds later, Mr. Tiddles was gone. I was close to announcing to my husband that I had discovered a portal to another dimension where we store our pots and pans, but then I heard a thump. I climbed inside, following the sound of clumsy thumping to find Mr. Tiddles staring back at me through a dark gap behind the cabinet wall. I was only able to coax him out with a trail of Whisker Lickin’s. He must have told the other four cats about this Naria-like entrance because every time I open that cabinet door, one of the heathens attempts a mad dash inside.
Our home was once a magnet for strays. It wasn’t a problem until we hosted our first party at our new address. While some of the guests hung out on the front porch, a small, white kitten wandered from the darkness towards the inebriated group, crying for help (to be clear, the kitten was crying for help, not the inebriated group on the front porch). It is not surprising that these drunks doted on this flea-covered stray as well as badgered me into keeping it. What I didn’t expect, however, was that this seemingly innocent kitten (now known as Reese) would telegraph to the rest of its community that we are suckers for homeless cats. Soon, a new stray would appear at our doorstep weekly. One was even rescued from our roof during a scorching summer day while dying of dehydration (and I still have no clue how it got up there). But all were turned away except one: Elvis (or as my husband calls it, Boo Boo). This cat was accepted only because I was away for three months on business. I’m still awaiting my husband’s apology for that. Thankfully the strays have stopped dropping by. Word of mouth must have spread that our inn is finally full. I just wanted to pass the warning on to you. Don’t let in any strays. You will be opening Pandora’s box.
Other than that, if you buy this home from us, you will not be disappointed. It’s great for newlywed couples (because it has two bedrooms), singles (because it’s affordable), and/or college students (because the house is within walking distance of the campus). You will build many great memories within these walls whether with or without a cat. But please buy it soon. I’m running out of generic Xanax.