Steve had finally found the perfect house. It was all brick, with an open living room, dining room and kitchen and the enormous bonus upstairs! Absolutely perfect...except for the neighborhood.
He's adamant that I come to NC immediately to see this house. "It's a gem! It won't last long!"
"Sweetie, why are the HOA dues $110 per month if there's no pool, playground, or anything?"
"They say it's for yard maintenance. I don't know. It doesn't matter. The house is perfect!"
So I go. Well, WE go.
It's a damn retirment community. No joke. Nothing but crotchety people waiting to die. That's it. I point this out to him and his first response is, "Great! We'll have plenty of babysitters that are missing their grandkids!"
So I start my fact-finding mission...talking to neighbors. The first nice couple told me that their grandson would have someone to play with. The second old man yelled at Beaux for touching the mirror in the house that was for sale. The third old woman said that they don't allow play equiptment in the yards and that there was a wonderful house two doors down that we should check out. Every one of them kindly offered that there was a lovely neighborhood next door with plenty of kids.
I hate crotchety old people. If you're going to be crabby, go be crabby in your own 'villa' and leave the rest of us alone.