The week following our first day looking at houses, my mom was in California for work. Dad and I went out with the real estate agent twice.
There was an overpriced little house a few homes away from a lake that I liked but didn't seem to excite my dad or the real estate agent much. I reasoned that I was mostly attracted to being near a lake, which was a silly prospect being that Mom and Dad's house, on a lake, was only 10 minutes away. In hindsight, I wish I had looked at that house a little more closely.
There were a few that were complete disasters. There were a few that were simply too far from where I wanted to live. We looked at a couple that had some potential but didn't stick in my head long after we left them. And a ranch just across from a lake (I expect I will always be a sucker for a lake house) that was in desperate need of upgrades. That ranch stuck in my head.
As did the small, inexpensive house that I saw the first day we went out.
Both were worth thinking about.
And they were worth looking at again. We made an appointment for our realtor to take us to those two houses again when Mom was back in town.
There was plenty to think about in the meantime. I loved the location of the ranch on the lake. And I kept coming back to that small, inexpensive house that could be fixed up to be so cute. It had a little playhouse in the yard and I could picture Lucy's boys playing in it.
I estimated what it would cost me to live in both houses and the mortgage payments seemed realistic. I thought about paint colors and kitchen remodels and registering to vote in a new city.
While I waited for Mom to come home and see what I had been thinking about, buying a house suddenly seemed a lot more realistic and a lot less scary and maybe something that I even wanted.
So that was weird.