Sometimes, okay, quite often, I look at Stanley and feel a soft spot. I will hear him with the children,
or I will see him doing the right thing and I will think,
“it didn’t work out for us, but he is a really good man.”
Other times, it is
and I’m all, “Stanley, say hello to my little friend.”
This week, it has been Pursebrick City.
As soon as I got back from the airport where I left Al and his daughter on Monday, the pool guys were in the back yard replacing the pool liner. At the end of the swimming season last year, the water kept dropping in the pool and we had sprung a leak. It dropped and dropped and dropped. We kept trying to find the hole but it was also during this time that Stanley broke his hip and spent the next 3 months on crutches. Although he can be handy around the house when he wants to be,
He NEVER WANTS TO BE.
So, we decided to call someone who said we needed to replace the liner. I looked at DIYing it, not a good idea. Basically, the hole in the backyard costs $3000 to fix. After I got estimates and shared it with him, he said, what else, “Ok.” The decision was made to do the work in March as soon as the possibility of freeze was over. Several months later, when told that Al and I were going to buy the house, he came out with, “well, then I shouldn’t have to pay to fix the pool.”
We can’t sell the house anyway without the pool being fixed and one way or another, no matter who buys, the pool has to be fixed in order to get an appraisal. This isn’t Al’s pool. It’s our pool and it happened in August, well before there was any mention of us buying the house. Talked to the mortgage guy, can’t buy the house without an appraisal, can’t get appraisal without fixing the pool (well, we can but it will be very low or they will put a hold on it until we, the current owners, fix the pool). So, I tell him I don’t have 3K and he balks but agrees to pay $1000 of it. Meaning, I pay 2/3 and he will pay 1/3 of total.
Monday, pool men arrive. I’m all excited because instead of a black, mud and leaf filled hole, there is about to be a pretty, carribbean blue, sparkly hole.
Dude comes in for nest exchange. He hasn’t seen the kids in over a week because I had Spring Break.
He is mad when he sees the pool men. Feral like.
Me: “Yay they’re here! We can get the appraisal and start the refi process.”
Feral Stanley: “I don’t have any money and I shouldn’t have to pay to fix the pool.”
Me: “I’ve already paid $2000 and this isn’t Al’s pool! We have to do this regardless!”
Feral Stanley: “Then maybe we should just skip your refinancing and sell.”
Me: “That will be just fine. BTW, you now owe $1500 on the pool because I insist we split repairs if we sell. Plus, we will have to do the roof, the sinkholes in the driveway, the master bathroom, so I’m fine with it, we need to call a realtor and some roofers.
Bringing it around again…
Dumb ass. Dumb ass.
How does he not realize that if he does this to help me get it fixed and appraised, probably $1500 – 2000 max, he will be out of this deal with 10K in his pocket in a month or 2? As opposed to us fixing it to put on the market which will include his $1500 – 2K PLUS probably include having to put in a new roof (10K) and fix the sink hole in the driveway that any buyer is going to request be fixed. In addition it may take 7 months to sell, which will mean we continue birdnesting (YAY!) and he will have to continue paying a large portion of the mortgage for the length of time it is on the market, could be 7 months.
Let’s see Stanley. Option 1: Cough up $pool money, I’ll forget the roof and drive way, we give you $10K in 2 months, or Option 2: be an asshole and it will cost you 5-10 K in repairs plus carrying costs for as long as it sells, probably at least 15 – 20K . After all of that, there is no guarantee he will come out with even $10K in equity.
It does not take the coordinator of the GED to figure out he needs go for option 1.
I’ve spent a large amount of time this week scratching my head. How did I marry such a dolt? He is brilliant people. He must be an idiot savant.
To prove my point, this morning I found this under a pile of his shit:
Holy moly, ain’t he a winner? I have no idea how this is going to play out but I am sure it will involve hops.