We showed our house 16 times, so by the end we had become seasoned pros at it.
At first we were clueless. Of course we did the obvious things:
- cleaned thoroughly—vacuumed, dusted, and polished;
- turned on lights so rooms felt bright and inviting;
- baked something beforehand so the kitchen smelled welcoming;
- cleared the cutting board and dish towel to show more granite;
- removed the bath mat to highlight the tile floor;
- polished faucets and fixtures to remove water spots;
- neatly arranged the bedroom closets since wardrobes and the bed frame were included;
- emptied trash and recycling;
- made sure toilet lids were down;
- blew off the driveway, porch, and patio to protect curb appeal;
- unlocked the separate-entry basement door so visitors could flow through easily.
Those steps helped, but our first few showings were far from professional. Selling the house ourselves made things more chaotic—picture the doorbell ringing while Burger barked, me juggling the baby and trying to let people in, and John offering to give a tour as background noise and distractions mounted. No surprise the first two showings didn’t go well.
By the third showing we adjusted our approach. We realized one focused person should handle each tour, with no dogs or babies underfoot. John took over showings because he’s detail-oriented—he remembers when we installed new windows and the last HVAC service date—while Burger, Clara and I left the house for a long walk beforehand. The walking helped calm nerves and, I’ll admit, I lost a few pounds from all that pacing and fresh-air breaks. Sixteen showings felt like a lot, especially the day we had four in one Sunday. It was a lot of walking, but it worked.
When it rained, we had to improvise. John suggested parking a few houses down so Clara, Burger and I could wait comfortably in the car while he showed the house. It sounds odd, but it ended up being pretty fun. We listened to the radio, scrolled through comments on our phones, and tried to stay entertained while he worked his magic inside. I took a few photos to remember the silliness.
My two companions liked sharing my lap in the front seat.
Clara discovered a granola bar in the center console—the crinkly wrapper doubled as a rattle and kept her busy for a while.
Keys turned out to be an effective makeshift toy when nothing else was at hand.
And Clara perfected the art of napping—she could sleep anywhere, even in the driver’s seat.
Overall, we were grateful for the interest in our home. Selling it ourselves taught us a lot about presenting, marketing, and managing traffic, and we’ll share the practical tips we learned about those things soon. For now, you can usually find Clara, Burger and me hanging out in the car—old habits die hard.