"Does he actually have to come into the house?" Dumb question number one.
"Of course," replies the overly efficient loans officer. "He will just verify the number of rooms, bathrooms and that your home is in reasonable condition."
"Ummm. What do you mean by reasonable?" Dumb question number two. I conjure up visions of him counting dust bunnies, or suffering an occupational injury when he ventures into Kidlet's cave (a well documented hazardous zone).
Needless to say I spent the evening plowing a path through the infinite array of hockey equipment to the furnace (just in case he needs to verify that there is one), tidying up the clutter that seems to accumulate all by itself and trying to see our house throw the eyes of an appraiser. Kidlet is getting her cleaning orders or an eviction notice.
This appraisal is an important step towards hubby and I getting our little dream cottage, so I am trying to embrace it. And hey, sometimes we need a fire lit under our backsides to spring us into action. Sometimes we need a reason to clean house. And really, could there be any better reason?