We had our annual rental inspection this month. We straightened up the house and had everything much-less-dirty-than-usual. On the day of the inspection, the inspector was scheduled to arrive anytime between 10:00 AM and 2:00 PM, so we went about business as usual, except we were wearing pants. 10:00 AM came and went; no inspection. 11:00 AM; still nothing. 12:00 PM arrives and I think,
I hope they don't catch me in the middle of lunch, but no, still nothing. Finally, at 1:45 PM, I had to leave for work.
As I gathered my scattered belongings, someone knocked on our door--a woman wearing a very pink shirt and pants covered in big, tropical prints. Of course, the rental inspector arrives
now.
Why isn't this rental inspector coming inside? Maybe she wants to start by walking the perimeter of the yard. Ari heard me talking and came to the door.
Ari, sensing the woman's hesitation, introduced himself.
And with those friendly words, she rallied.
I don't know what was more awkward: the fact that this lady had no idea Ari is Jewish and does not want to go to a Jehovah's Witness meeting, or the fact that I had just invited her to come walk around in our house for no apparent reason.
And that's why I'm a terrible spouse.
