Yesterday, I said to hell with the universe.
Today, it’s paying me back.
The house, down the block, just went on the market for one hundred thousand dollars less than ours. OMG! WTF! and all those other abbreviations teens use.
True, it’s not as pretty as ours, slightly smaller, has a little different layout, and, as my sister pointed out, doesn’t have a fifth bedroom or kicking back splash. But, as I pointed out to her, for one hundred thousand dollars, I’m pretty sure they could add their own bedroom and install, not only their own kick ass back splash, but a whole new kitchen.
This is what I know. They paid twenty thousand more for their house than they are selling it for. It’s not a short sale. If they sell before us, we’ll never appraise.
How’s that for sucking?
All this reminds me of a recent picture I took of Second Son. Completely unaware of what was on the tv behind him, I couldn’t help but laugh, when this is what I later saw. In case you’re wondering what he’s doing, it’s his version of
outdoing his baby sister ballet (learned from Despicable Me), because you know, he knows how to do it, not Little Lady!
Since Second Son’s been a baby, I’ve always maintained that he’s had a look in his eyes that said he was in on the joke that is life. Turns out the universe and him have a lot in common.
Universe, please accept my apologies. Now, play nice.