The Appraisal

At ten o’clock this morning

We got a little call

It was our home appraiser

He was really on the ball

We had only signed the papers

About a day ago

And now he’s calling us to say

Today’s the day to go

He asks me for a time that’s good

So I say “How ‘bout four?”

He agrees, but then I see

There’s clutter on the floor

“What have I done!” I start to think

“This place is such a mess!

We’ve only got six hours

And it’s nowhere near its best!”

I start by brushing out the johns

And scrubbing out the tub

But then my tummy grumbles so

I go down for some grub

I have a nice, relaxing lunch

Salami and swiss cheese

My wife brings home Penn Station fries

To which I say, “Yes, please!”

But then I look up at the clock

How’s it already one?

We’ve used up half our time and yet

We’ve barely just begun

I head back up to take care of

The pile on my floor

There’s books and towels, a magazine

A box, some socks and something green

(It’s just a pen, don’t be obscene)

I sort and stack and make it clean

Until there’s nothing more

And now it’s two, what should I do?

I think I’ll go downstairs

The tax forms in the living room

The kitchen floor could use a broom

The games need stacking, movies racking,

Now my daughters are attacking

Maybe they could use a thwacking

‘Cause my patience sure is lacking

But then my wife declares:

“Dear me, it’s three! How can this be?

You haven’t vacuumed yet!”

And so while tangled in the cords

I get the cracks near the baseboards

It seems that everybody cares

The girls are putting shoes in pairs 

I sweep the stairs, under the chairs

I’m getting lots of girly hairs

I’m working up a sweat.

It’s four.

A soft knock at the door.

He visits every single room

And peers into the attic’s gloom

It feels like he has just begun

When he informs us that he’s done

He puts his coat and shoes back on

He says goodbye, and then he’s gone

My family and I feel beat

I think we’ll all go out to eat