A month or so ago, when our lovely little soon-to-be started jacking with my wife’s hormone levels, she became rather obsessive about not wanting to raise a family in our current location. Now granted, having noisy downstairs neighbors on vastly different schedules then us has never been a picnic, but our historical home full of stain glass, hardwood floors, marble fireplaces and countertops isn’t exactly the “rat hole” she was making it out to be.
She presented the idea of moving to me and being the kind, understanding, husband that I am, I responding with a typical caring comment like, “Not only no, but HELLLLLLL no. A big beautiful orchard of hell no where the hell no’s are so bountiful that they fall off the trees and you can pick ‘em up and make a big hell no pie.”
Yep… Mr. Sensitivity. That’s me.
She responded with one thing she rarely does… crying.
“Do you not love me or the baby?”
Trick question. That, or it’s rhetorical. Either way… the last thing you should do is respond with sarcasm. Just keep your mouth shut and this will all…
“Damn it, girl… You’ve figured out my master plan. I married you and knocked you up just to torment you with this living purgatory we call a home.”
“But it’s not a home. That’s the problem. It’s an apartment in the city and no place to raise a family.”
*sigh*
So my good-hearted wife asked me to do just one thing: keep an open mind. While this isn’t exactly one of my strongest traits, I agreed.
I asked her to keep a few things in mind. First, we don’t have a lot of money for a deposit, with credit that won’t stand for any of those “zero-down” deals. Secondly, I refused to move into another apartment, so it would have to be a house. And third—and this was pretty damn important—that we would have to get movers because it was only about a year ago that J and I about killed ourselves trying to hoist the damn B.A.T. (Big Ass Television) up those steps.
She agreed—a bit too willingly I might add—which clearly meant she was up to something.
I remember sitting down to breakfast right before that big card tourney I wrote about a few weeks back and telling Jay, “She’s gone insane. Completely loony. And what’s more? She thinks she’s going to win this, but she’s not. I’ve got her number on this one.”
Jay took a long, contemplative drag off his cigarette and said, “Bud, when you guys move—and make no mistake, you will— I’m not helping you move that fucking T.V.”
But what does he know? (I mean he’s only my best friend, right?) I wear the pants in this relationship. I don’t cave. Period.
So I’m pleased to announce that at the end of December, we’ll be moving into our lovely new home.
Ok… so in retrospect, she may have had a point about the school district. And our neighborhood (root word in this instance being hood.) And making the move before we get bogged down with year one baby stuff. And finding a bloody good deal that leaped all of my hurdles.
Yep… that wife of mine, she’s a wily one.
So as we got ready to sign on this thing, last week, we found out that the really wonderful three story historical home that we wanted last year is available to us again. It’s amazing. Really amazing. However, it’s still in the city, and not in the good part. So we weighed the pro’s and con’s of the newer home in the good neighborhood, with the good schools, etc., verses double the indoor square footage.
Then another wrench got thrown in. Early last week I was offered a job as an interface designer in
You know, just typing that gives me little chills.
And
However, Jenn’s entire family lives within driving distance of us here in St. Lou. And Jenn loves her job. And who would hire a woman that’s halfway through her pregnancy?
*waves to dream job as it zooms by*
But as I told Jenn (who devotedly told me she’d leave the decision up to me and follow me to the ends of the world), that may be my dream job, but this is my dream life. The adoring wife. The baby on the way. Hell, I’ll even get used to living in suburbia if I get to come home to her smiling face every day.
With the decision all but made, I walked into my boss’ office, told him about the offer, and suggested a price point that might be met to get me to stay. They did better. They gave me a promotion, let me choose my own title (I suggested Dark Overlord), a big year end bonus to help with the house, and company paid term life policy that would almost pay for the house on its own should something ever happen to me.
Granted, I won’t be playing Wii any time soon, but my wife assures me I can get one for my birthday, which is almost exactly two months before I get the best gift of my entire life. Life’s pretty damn good.
4 comments:
Yippee - I am so glad you wrote about the house. I am even more excited to move our little family into a beautiful home in a lovely neighborhood. You are my sweet, good man and I adore you husband. I will follow you to the ends to the earth.
Aaah, that's the lure of suburbia. Come for the green space and the 2-car garage. Stay for the grocery store right on the corner and the Bed, Bath and Beyond right across town. Your transformation has begun... Mmmwaaahhhhh!!!
Oh joy, a home. Don't you know that one day you'll be sitting somewhere in a room of that house or maybe in the yard and some memory will come flooding back about how vote4whatjensays.com made that structure your home. What fun! Congratulations on it and the promotion.
Congrats on the house! Still a little sad that it's location is not in Salt Lake City. Aw well, as long as you guys are happy. =)
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