Looking for a new place to live has provided very little in the way of solid leads, but great riches in the way of blog material. Let the storytelling commence...
I saw a cute apartment listed online, so contacted the owner to schedule a showing. It was a garage apartment behind his house, so he told me to drop by on the weekend and he would show me around. When I got there, he was outside with his little boy, doing yard work.
He introduced himself, then introduced me to his son, who appeared to be about two or three years old. I smiled at the little boy (we'll call him Theo) and introduced myself, but he merely turned away and continued digging in the dirt.
The dad started to lead me toward the apartment, when suddenly Theo ran up behind me and yelled "you smell like poop!"
The dad, in a feeble attempt to cover for his son, said "what? You stepped in poop?"
Listen, Daddy-O, that is not what your darling child just said.
As though to confirm my inner monologue, Theo loudly repeated his earlier proclamation..."you smell like POOP!"
Dad keeps walking and casually over his shoulder says "Theo, don't step in poop."
We go inside the apartment. It's rather nice, nothing stunning, but certainly well-kept. The previous tenant hasn't removed all of his belongings so there is still quite a lot of furniture and electronics in the unit. He points out various amenities, all while Theo systematically runs around the apartment, banging a shovel on the tenants stereo and furniture.
Finally, the dad clues in to what his lovely child is doing and tells Theo to stop. Theo does not stop. So the dad takes the shovel away from Theo. At which point Theo proceeds to throw a temper tantrum, wailing and screaming. So what does the dad do? He picks Theo up, cradles him in his arms, gives him a kiss on the cheek and hands the shovel back to him.
After he shows me the apartment, we're walking out and locking up and he says "by the way, do you babysit?"
I tell you, I cannot make this stuff up.