So, here we are. Officially, we have had the house for one week. Last Tuesday, July 20th, we became home owners. Well, technically the bank owns the house. We’re just making payments to them for the next thirty years. I’ll be 57 years old before it actually becomes mine. Of course, we know this is better than Matt. (Isn’t it always?!) He’ll be 64 years old.
The year of our Lord, two thousand forty.
Doesn’t seem so bad, now does it? What’s thirty years?
I’m guessing it will go in the blink of an eye. This week, however, has lasted an eternity. Our days have been spent unpacking, painting, pulling weeds, digging flower beds, trimming trees and bushes, eating fast food, decorating, mowing, making countless trips to Home Depot, hanging pictures, cleaning, organizing, and dying from the heat. My boys have been in Wichita with their grandparents and if I may be so blunt, Praise Jesus.
It’s one thing to do all that, it’s another thing to do all that while also fixing their dinner, breaking up brotherly fights, stepping over Legos, reading stories, monitoring bathtime, picking up their messes, and restarting the DVD player. Needless to say, Matt and I have both enjoyed their absence. This hard week and has been much easier without all their help.
Speaking of help, we need some when it comes to choosing paint colors. When the Porter Paint can says, ‘Belgian Waffle,’ it should be noted that that is just a fancy way of saying, ‘yellow.’ The entire upstairs hallway, stairs, entry way, and kitchen hallway is a cheerful yellow that I absolutely hate. Think cheap, vanilla ice cream yellow.
I’m hoping that we get it changed soon. Soon being defined as in ‘sometime in the next thirty years.’