Wednesday, February 25, 2009

My Best Investment

"You're more picky about a house than you were about your mate."

Leonard spoke these words tonight, trying to get me to smile after another day of frustrations with house hunting. His other tactics included washing the dishes, dancing in the kitchen, and singing about his probiotic yogurt in falsetto: "Here comes acidophilus, into my a-stomagus!"

It worked, of course.

His statement got me thinking.

When we drive up to a home I've pretty much already made up my mind. I'll smile pleasantly while thinking things like "What's that weird chunk of brick doing stuck on the side there?" or "Where's the house, all I see is garage." Don't even get me started on columns. I'll drop all considerations of a house based on the shape of the windows or the angle of the kitchen counter. If I don't feel like I can live with the color of the cabinets, there's really no need to continue the tour.

It's a curse, but one I will protect at all cost.

If only I could find a house the way I found Leonard. His curb appeal was fantastic. He got me interested with his baby face good looks and chivalrous manners. He was a little shy during our first interactions, which kept me intrigued to see what was inside. Every door I finally opened was a pleasant surprise. "Wow, I had no idea utmost respect for his mother was even in there!" "No way! Hand holding in public? I've always wanted that!" And oh, the upgrades! Humor beyond what I'd ever interacted with. Superb sincerity. Sweeping good naturedness. Sustainable goofiness.

I didn't need to be picky about Leonard because I was blown away by all that he had to offer. I'm just lucky the deal worked out.