When house-hunting, I am more particular about certain things over others. If it’s an old apartment, I want to know how much work we will have to do before we move in. So I am looking at replacing bathrooms, door handles, window nets etc. That is before I start looking at whether the living room is big or if they have space for my washing machine. Since we were looking in a particular estate that was built in the early naughties, I already knew these things would be an issue.
In the last apartment we looked at in that estate, I breezed past the living area and went straight to the bathroom. After that, I looked at the bed rooms and then came back to the living room where we stood debating the cons. After a while, the realtor said, “Madam, I thought you would have gone to check the kitchen. Most women are particular about that and the size.”
I stopped and gave him a look that said, “Must I?” Hubs just stopped in his tracks and burst out laughing. I smiled. We didn’t need to let the man in on our secret joke.
It’s not today that I have been questioned about my reluctance to enter kitchen at the slightest provocation. Even before we got married someone asked Hubs if I could cook. And knowing that I could, he told the person, “If she doesn’t know how, will you come and be cooking for us?” There are many reasons I love this man. It is because of him that I don’t need to make a big show of checking the kitchen out so that people can be happy that I’m a ‘good wife material’. I am competent in “housewifery” but it is not my validation. I know who I am and thank God Hubs knows and loves who I am. I can’t explain this to Mr Realtor. In fact, no strength.