It wasn’t one of those cases where the old, nearly-dilapidated home goes on the market for a steal promising a rich history. It wasn’t a case where a beautiful victorian home sold privately through the owners themselves give some quick, half-assed reply about how they just need the money and the house has to go, some rushed deal where suspicions are all up in the air like a bunch of fairies flying freely overhead. No, my husband and I came into this fully unsuspecting, no guns to blaze.
The house was a few miles out of town down a shabby road that had been paved and repaved again, only to be torn up by farmer’s equipment and large trucks taking it as a secret passageway. It wasn’t anything too special but it had been on the market for months and we finally decided to give it a second glance. It preached a lot of wondrous opportunities, room for growth with five bedrooms, and two bathrooms which meant that I would finally be able to spend each morning in peace as I had wished for many years prior. My husband and I were basically rearing our heels and rubbing our hands together at the deal – score! We were sold the moment we boarded our children up in the car and took a look at this place.
Ceiling to floor with renovations and hardwood flooring from the floors of Heavens themselves, and pearly white porcelain sinks and claw foot bathtubs, we saw investment dollars in our eyes and wondered who in their right mind would ever want to move out of such a glorious home. It took a few weeks of convincing but eventually my husband agreed that this might be a nice change from our old apartment style life, into something that could be wonderful adjustments for our two small children. The owners were not shady whatsoever and gave off nothing but positive vibes, a shy and quite nervous couple who preferred not to live so close to a city, as we were in the outskirts of one of the largest ones in America. Just as we saw change in our eyes, they saw dollar signs and fresh starts and we settled on the deal of a lifetime in no time.
Maxwell and Timothy, 6 and 8, fought over the two rooms meant just for them, one of which contained a larger closet and one of which was just larger in general room-space. Maxwell figured “I want the room with the bigger closet because it would be perfect for playing hide and seek” while Timothy maturely stated he thought that he deserved it because it would “be perfect for storing my Star Wars collection.” My husband and I sat down to duke it out for them but also couldn’t come to an agreement. He thought that Maxwell deserved it because he shouldn’t have so much space in his room as he is smaller, but a bigger closet could compensate for that. I thought that Timothy deserved it because he was eldest and eldest has rights, and if this is the room he wanted, then that was his right. In the end, they flipped a coin over it. And Maxwell walked away huffing and puffing, into his large room with barely any closet space.