When I was pretty new in the biz and my daughter was only about 6 years old I listed the next-door neighbors’ home for sale. My little Katie accompanied me to my first open house, so excited to see her new-realtor mommie in action. We went together around the house opening drapes, turning on all the lights, adjusting things just right to impress the hordes of people I hoped to see.
Kate and I were playing on the family’s miniature pool table when I heard the front door open. I did a real Loretta Young (man, did I just date myself!) sweep into the living room where I was dumbfounded to see a Miami Police Officer crouched by the door with his gun pointed directly at me!
Seems that one of the switches we flipped was actually the silent alarm!
It took some convincing to get him to believe we were not in duress and that it had been a mistake. I think Katie’s lack of fear and intrigue at how the afternoon was progressing probably spoke louder than any words I could say to explain.
I still don’t know which switch it was that summoned the police, but about 45 minutes later another cop showed up, this one a woman, just to make sure we really were alright!
That was many open houses ago and I never took Kate to another one, but it was the only time I got the police to visit! Twice!
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