You’re parked sideways, engine still running, holding a grocery list your mom texted with five exclamation points. You were supposed to be at the grocery story buying eggs but here you are falling in love with a four-sided brick bespoke renovation on the corner of Northbrook and Hidden Acres. Your heart skips a beat. Over 2,000 square feet. Four actual bedrooms... not “could be an office†bedrooms. Real blond wood floors. And a vibe that feels like nostalgia wrapped up in a big warm hug. You blame the kitchen. It’s stupid pretty. Like, Pinterest pretty, that natural light spilling in through the new windows accenting the creamy white cabinets that whisper “You bake now.†You would bake a whole lot of banana bread and blueberry muffins for the rest of your life if you owned this kitchen. Screw your Keto Diet in 2026, carbs are on the menu for life. You stand in the dining room and think, the open house sign lead you to here. This must be kismet. Then you check the flyer you’re clutching in your sweaty hand. This feels too good to be true, Maybe the agent made a mistake and the 5 was supposed to be a “6?†Totally Undervalued. You were saving up for a down payment in April, but at this price you could buy now and not have to deal with living in that cockroach invested apartment another month. You thought all the good houses would hit the market in Spring… It’s giving you those same tingles you got up and down your back when you kissed your 8th grade crush behind the bleachers. She was a total babe. And while everyone else is still half-drunk on sugar cookies, eggnog and family drama, you write the offer. Because sometimes, the home picks you. Even if you're wearing Christmas PJ’s and a fleece pullover that’s 2 sizes 2 small from 2002.