It was Sunday morning. Andrew got me out of bed with the smell of coffee and we both lounged on the couch, Outside the Lines on TV, scrolling our own respective phones.
"Oh wow," I said (stupidly), "I just read an article that homes in Houston are selling at a record pace and for lots of money." It was innocent enough; I was just sharing.
He took the laptop. I figured he was looking up Fantasy Football stats or something. A few minutes later:
"Wow, Lauren, did you know that homes in our neighborhood are going for...?"
And then I knew it wouldn't be "our neighborhood" much longer.
The song will be in your head all day. You're welcome.
He researched and I let him. Remember, we decided in the spring that our current house was just fine and we bought furniture and put holes in the wall and made it a home. I mentioned all of this. But apparently that didn't matter.
"Hey come on," he said, "Don't you want to move?"
I guess? I mean yes. I do want to move. We've been in this house eight years and I would love a little more updating, a better commute, a change of pace. Or would I? There's comfort in having a vet and a dentist and a grocery store you know inside and out. I know which Starbucks have drive-thrus and where gas is cheapest and which streets run parallel to get home in case traffic is bad. This has been my side of town since I was five. It's a stupid, cookie-cutter suburb, but it's mine, dammit.
My always researching, far more practical (and far less resistant to change) husband pointed out the positives of a new area: closer to work and the areas we like to live, trees, a life change that isn't drastic. And he's right. But I'm still clinging to my 'hood. I've told him I could win exclusive access to a castle in Rome and I would second guess if I would like it there, too. As someone who has never had to find a new post office or realize new comforts, my reaction that change is bad isn't as surprising to the casual observer as it is to me. But I'm working on it. At the end of the day, we're going to find the best house in the best neighborhood that we can afford that's available. And I might lose my comforts, but maybe, it's time.
So that's what's going on with me. My screen time has been spent looking for realtors (we found one!) and checking out real estate listings. Evenings are spent making the house just a little cleaner. There's a stager and a photographer coming today and we're hoping to list tomorrow.
Meanwhile, we're pre-approved and looking for a place. I might have even applied to be on House Hunters. Might as well go all out, right?
So here we go. A potential loss of comfort, the start of something new. Let this be a lesson to wives everywhere: think before you share just any random tidbit with your husband. It might make your Sunday a lot less lazy.
Linking up with Kathy because admitting I don't want to move across town
feels pretty confess-y to me.