This afternoon we were sitting in our living room, when suddenly an unfamiliar pickup truck slowed down and came to a stop in front of our house. We anxiously sat still, as if a wagon full of free pool chemicals was parked in our driveway and if we ran out there too suddenly it would disappear. I think I was even talking without moving my lips. Lucy continued to squeal and climb up the sides of her playpen. Shhh!
Then I noticed the guy got out of his truck ::car door shut:: and walked across the street to talk with our neighbor, who is in his front yard. What is he asking? What is our neighbor saying? Then along comes Ricky. Ohh, Ricky. What do you want now? Then a door-to-door salesman wants to sell Ron some cooking supplies. Get away! We might have an interested potential buyer. Then the buzzing street cart gang decided to hit the pavement (there are more, newer, louder machines than ever! I seriously think I saw a dune-buggy)... Oh this is going to attract someone to live here! Ugh. So I motion Ricky to come in through the breezeway so I can learn what he snoopily discovered about the strange pickup truck man. Aaaaaand... It's the former owner.
I imagine he was told, "hey dude, your old house is for sale" and wanted to come by and see how we have destroyed his knotty pine palace and turned it into a drywalled monstrosity. Well, nevertheless I tidied up, just in case he requested entrance. Ricky thinks maybe he's interested in buying it back. Oh, to be 14. So we're still hoping for a legitimate creepy slow-moving vehicle to drive by. What a tease.