I pay only $400 per month to live in a three-bedroom townhouse in a neighborhood where housing prices are soaring. Jealous? Don’t be. As with any sweet deal, there is a catch.
For nine months out of the year, BI’75 and I have the house to ourselves. We cook healthy dinners every night, the kitchen is always clean and there is always plenty of cheese. A person can lay on the couch uninterrupted for hours and never has to answer questions ranging from why the people in commercials talk so fast to what my generation thinks of “this mess.”
For the other three months, our house is overrun by senior citizens. CNN blares from every TV and NPR from every radio—at the same time. I give computer and cell phone tutorials on a nightly basis. The kitchen is littered with American cheese wrappers and we are always out of milk. The fights start promptly at 7:00 AM, and I have to threaten someone with the old folks home at least once a week. Please refer to my list of grievances from last year for more.
Since I can’t afford the other $1,600 per month that would make up half the rent on a place like this, I suppose it’s a small price to pay, but that doesn’t mean I’m not counting the days until Ma and Pa E pack up and head north.
For nine months out of the year, BI’75 and I have the house to ourselves. We cook healthy dinners every night, the kitchen is always clean and there is always plenty of cheese. A person can lay on the couch uninterrupted for hours and never has to answer questions ranging from why the people in commercials talk so fast to what my generation thinks of “this mess.”
For the other three months, our house is overrun by senior citizens. CNN blares from every TV and NPR from every radio—at the same time. I give computer and cell phone tutorials on a nightly basis. The kitchen is littered with American cheese wrappers and we are always out of milk. The fights start promptly at 7:00 AM, and I have to threaten someone with the old folks home at least once a week. Please refer to my list of grievances from last year for more.
Since I can’t afford the other $1,600 per month that would make up half the rent on a place like this, I suppose it’s a small price to pay, but that doesn’t mean I’m not counting the days until Ma and Pa E pack up and head north.
7 comments:
Are you saying that you prefer living with me 9 months out of the year even though I yell and scream all the time?
Oh, I don't listen to you. When you are yelling and screaming, I am hearing classical music, birds and waterfalls.
Um. As I stand on the precipice between a mortgage or exorbitant rent, I'm a little jealous. But then, I love NPR and don't care much for milk...
For the past eight years that I've lived in the parental home, people always respond the same: "Oooh, you live with your parents?"
In my twenties, it was said like this: "Ooooh, you LIVE with your PARENTS?" {{disgust oozing from every syllable}}
In my thirties, it's said like this: "Oooooooooh, you live with your parents?!?!?" {{excited, childish upswing at the end}}
Shame on you for talking about your parents this way!
THEY ARE CRAZY PEOPLE!
I loves me some old people...
Forrest
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