A friend who has always lived in rented dwellings is currently in the process of buying a home. She called about a few things:
Her: “There’s a bunch of paperwork about lead paint.”
Me: There goes your health. “Yeah, that has to be disclosed.”
Her: “Does this house have it (the one she’s about to buy)?”
Me: Probably. “What year was it built?”
Me: Oh boy. “Yes, it has lead paint.”
Her: “What do I do about it?”
Me: “Um, don’t eat it.” And don’t let kids lick the walls.
Her: “This is a lot of stuff to sign.”
Me: Is your hand getting tired? “Yes it is.”
Her: “I feel like I’m signing my life away.”
Me: You are. “Nah, that’s just part of the process.”
Her: I don’t understand most of what it says.
Me: No one does. “Really? I understood every word when I bought a house.”
Her: “It needs a little paint here and there.”
Me: So, it’s a money pit, huh? Have fun with that. “What fun! You’re going to be fixing up a house just the way you want it!”
Her: “But hey, there’s a great tax credit this year for first-time home buyers.”
Me: “Why yes, there is!” Of course, you’ll need it for all the repairs that will show up about one week after close. Things that, during the official inspection, were perfectly fine.
Her: “Well, I’m glad I called you. I can always count on your encouragement and support”
Me: “I’m here for you, girl.” Really, I am.
That’s the difference between you and me – and probably why you have more friends – I say the stuff in the italics. Out loud.
Yeah, that’s really the way it should be.