The young broker is sporting a trendy T-shirt and designer jeans. His client, an eager looking young professional, follows him into our home.
They stand, stunned, in the entry.
"Dude," the broker remarks, "you have kids everywhere."
We laugh. I'm holding a twin, Matt's holding a twin and Jewel is doing homework at the kitchen table.
We don't tell them there are two more kids upstairs.
They tour the house in about two minutes. Upstairs, James says "hey!" to them. I wish I could see these guys' faces: duuuuuude, these people are cr-azy!
The two guys return downstairs. They're standing with their hands stuffed in their pockets, sort of rocking back and forth on their heels. We don't fit their stereotype and I think it freaks them out a little.
I jerk my head at the kids, smiling broadly, "So, I guess you can see why we need to move."
I'm hoping to disarm them by smiling. I'm hoping they can look past their preconceptions and see that we're happy, friendly people. We don't bite.
It works. They smile back and compliment me on my clean, beautiful floors.
Being different isn't weird, it's just unexpected.
You can cure unexpected.
Flash a smile and a cynic will become an admirer.