As I have previously discussed, Stanley wants to sell the nest. I knew it was coming. He has let me know since Christmas, everytime there has been an opportunity to slip the words in, that he would like to sell. It usually starts like this,
and then there are some words…monosyllabic and mostly dumb.
I have mentioned here before that we had a roof leak. It started with a small circle on my ceiling directly over my bed where my head hits the pillow. It was hard to ignore. There was no actual drip, just a small brown circle that got bigger every time it rained. Coincidence? I think not. I mentioned to him that someone needed to get on the roof and check it out. He did nothing. After much swearing, fretting, ghashing of teeth, while he did nothing, I finally found someone to bring their 30 foot ladder and fix the sucker. The problem is that I was off when they were due to show up and dumb head was in the backyard and missed them at the front door.
It was all he had to do. JUST OPEN THE DOOR. Yet, he couldn’t manage even that.
Nor could the man who came to fix the roof manage to walk around to the side of the house and the open garage where Stanley’s car was clearly visible and give a small shout, like, “Yo! Are you here? I’m here to fix the roof!” Nope.
It was a huge Testicular Failure on all counts. Plus 3 inches of rain was in the forcast.
I was mad as hell and ranted for at least an hour to my lovah and my son about the failures of all testicle carriers and their inability to problem solve and get a job done.
The Boy would try to protest and Al would wisely say to him, “Shh, shh, this has to run it’s course.”
Finally on Tuesday afternoon, a bunch of men with 30 foot ladders appeared in my back yard. I ran out there as gleeful as if it was George Clooney and Matt Damon. They got it fixed as it started to sprinkle. It took 5 men several hours and the bill was $830.
He came in for nest exchange Wednesday night and as I showed him the work he started the hem haw dance again. He moved his weight from one foot to the other and finally spurted out,
S: “When can we get the house on the market?”
CM: “Well, I don’t know. Now it needs a new roof, and the upstairs bathrooms are both awful and need repair. What are you thinking?”
S: ” No new roof. I’m thinking the Fall.”
CM: “Well, have you given any thought to the fact that we have 3 kids in 3 schools next year and can organize carpool from here but what are we going to do to manage that when the house sells and btw one of us has to stay in this district. Who is going to do that?”
S: “I’m just thinking to sell.”
CM: “So, you aren’t thinking of the logistics of managing next year at all?”
S: “I think that birdnesting has been great for the kids but I can’t get on with my life until we sell the house.”
CM: “Well, you look pretty much like you are getting on with it to me, living with your girlfriend and president of your beer club and all, but whatever. I’m just worrying about how we are going to manage things like, school, next year. A year from now the Boy can drive and it will make it much easier.”
S: “Things will work out. I want to sell.”
Big huge sigh.
This is an example of tortured twisted wanker logic.
Things work out because
I WORK THEM OUT.
So, now I am in thinking mode. The truth is that I don’t want to sell at all, but I am happy to get his lazy ass out. If only I could afford the mortgage on my own. He told me that he would be happy to let me buy him out. He said,
(Ya’ll need to prepare yourselves, this is more tortured twisted wanker logic)
“The house is worth around $300K, so if you give me $150K then you could buy me out.”
Srsly, and he is supposed to be so smart, Dr. PhD?
Umm, no. I said, “Well, actually it works like this. The house is worth $300K but we owe $265K, so that is 35K in equity which we share. So, technically I could buy you out for $17.5K, but then we would subtract selling fees and we would actually get much less than that if we sold, so I’m thinking for about $7K I could buy you out.”
Whatever, I’m thinking.
I am up against some real, tough,tortured, twisted, ex logic
so please send prayers.