As I headed down the driveway one morning this week, I noticed a car parked alongside Greenbriar Lane, the private road owned by us and our nearest neighbors. A couple and their two kids stood in our lower lawn, gazing at the house. Oh joy, I thought. A family of Maryland yuppies and their BMW.
“Can I help you?”
“We’re house hunting,” the mother said. “This looks like a nice house. How much is it?”
I looked around to make sure someone hadn’t put out a “For Sale” sign when we weren’t looking. They hadn’t.