Home Sweet Home
I became a homeowner at the ripe old age of 21. I knew that I was taking a huge step when I did this, and I'm glad I did. Unfortunately, being that young, I had very little idea of what being a homeowner implies. Visions of home-decorating and stripper poles danced in my head. (Thank God I never went through with that.)
I think my parents must've hated me for about the first 6 months after I moved in. They were inundated with phone calls ranging from, "Can I borrow your lawnmower?" to "I think squirrels are living in my attic!" to "What should I do if I smell gas?" Unfortunately, my friends weren't much help either, being as inexperienced in home-ownership as I was. Not that they didn't try. I remember one of my guy friends very sincerely offering to hold the ladder for me when I needed to get in the crawl space one time.
Luckily, I survived on my own long enough to learn the ropes. And let me tell ya', I can plunge a toilet with the best of 'em now.
Labels: way back machine