Back in 1990-?somethin, I bought my first car. I paid about $10k for it. It was initially more and I negotiated, as well as trading my old clunker in with $500 from my mother. I was satisfied with the price, and the terms of my loan.
Until I talked to other people, who asked me what I paid.
Because, I’ve found, you can never tell people what you paid for a car. They have a set figure in their heads, and if your number is higher, they’ll tell you what a lemon you got. If their number is lower than the price you paid, then they’ll tell you how you were robbed, where you should have gone, and what you could have bought for your money, instead.
Money is too personal and relative a concept to discuss with most people.
Turns out, this applies to housing as well.
My MIL is convinced that we should be worried about any home we like. *giggles* I mean, she doesn’t say that, she implies it. She tells me that something is probably wrong with all of the houses we can easily afford, but the houses that cost twice as much are probably safe.
I don’t think she ever saw The Money Pit movie, hmm?
I wonder if this is because she sold her last house in the same price range, and she viewed it as a nightmare? I dunno. We’d live in her old house, but it’s not for sale…Besides, Drew really wants it…and that would be wrong…but I’m just sayin, we would be happy to live in the house she sold.
I’m relatively certain she’d prefer we live in a brand new home, but we have already done that, and we preferred our old home in the hood to the brand new home in the suburbs. Ferreal.
It turns out, for me, a big kitchen is less important than a large laundry. For us, a large shaded back yard took precedence over a dishwasher. I loved having a clothesline more than I loved having an enormous master bedroom. Built-ins and paneling please me, whereas closets big enough to have windows feel weird. To each his own.
For instance, bonus rooms seem to be a popular feature for family homes. While this makes sense for some people, and we’re happy for them, we really don’t understand how we would use one. We’d rather have that square footage divided among the bedrooms.
The truth is, every home we look at has some aspect that we don’t like, as much as some things we love. Even when we built our house, we ended up regretting some of the choices we made.
Like everything else, I don’t think these are anyone else’s choices to make. Isn’t it our choice if we think the house is so great, it’s okay if it’ll need a new roof in a few years? Or if we think the land alone is worthy of spending a lot of money on repairs?
Isn’t that our business?
Initially, I thought it was just an overbearing motherly thing, but today, I saw this happen friend-to-friend. I was scrolling through my Facebook, and one of my friends, we’ll call her Mrs. Knue, had posted about how she’d grown tired of killing insects and arachnids in her new home. Her new home was vacated several years ago, and it seems the creepy-crawly critters have taken it over, not feeling quite so hospitable to new humans in their space.
Several people suggested diatemaceous earth, and commiserated with Mrs. Knue about the spider invasion.
Then, some guy comes along? and asks why it was vacant so long? He asks if it was taken back by the bank? or what’s wrong with it?
How is this any of his business? Has he no manners?
Here are the judgments I have made about Mrs. Knue’s house:
It is beautiful.
It is rather large.
It appears to be all brick.
It is older, maybe even historical.
It has lovely, mature landscaping.
Furthermore, I’ve concluded that this is not the first house Mrs. Knue has purchased, since she just sold her other home before moving to this one. So I assume, if there was anything “wrong” with this house, it was discovered during inspection and addressed by Mrs. Knue before she purchased it.
I see the things people say and I shake my head.
And, well, I blog about it.