Two weeks ago, on a still Friday morning, Husband woke me from my slumber by brushing my hair behind my ear and softly whispering, "There's a house going on the market and if we act quickly could be ours."
Well.
So much for needing coffee.
42 hours later we were signing the final papers and now we await our closing date of January 28. I am planning paint colours and renovating the kitchen as Husband waxes enthusiastic about garage space and fenced yards.
Neither one of us knows what is in the mystery room in the sub-basement, the one with the tiny door too small for a grown human, but the home inspector assured us the giggling was 'perfectly normal'.
