Quick run down through the “how we got here” timeline.
We owned a home in “middle of nowhere”. Hubby had a great job, HUGE commute. We had three kids. Hubby’s job disappeared overnight, company went bankrupt without warning. Hubby found new job, in a bigger city. Hubby still had HUGE commute. New Job said “move closer or your fired” and we moved. We tried to rent our old house, we tried to sell it. It has been 3 years. Old house has been in foreclosure for the last two, bank won’t finish the deal. We rented the only house we could afford (rent PLUS difference between mortgage and incoming rent). Landlord said no pets. We gave away our cat and our dog. We moved, we’ve been here three years. We’ve seen the landlord once, the day we moved in.
I called about six weeks ago to ask if they would reconsider their “no-pet” policy. We had been here three years, been good tenants, and even offered to send an additional “pet deposit”. He said they would be back in town (Florida for the winter) in April and they (he and his wife) would come ‘see how things looked’ and then decide. On Wednesday he called and left me a message on my cell phone saying “I guess you can consider this 24 hour notice”. I called and asked him to come when my husband was home and he said “no need, I’m not a threat”. I asked him to wait until 11am because the kids normally did their schoolwork in the morning. He grumbled and then agreed.
The house was clean. The kids were dressed and behaving, watching cartoons quietly. His wife, over the course of the visit, asked the children’s names, asked me how long we had been here, and tried to make small talk.
Her husband on the other hand…
- “why did you have them [the children] so close together, if you had spaced them out you’d have someone to help you”
- “I’ve never seen a house with so much stuff in it”
- “I don’t know how YOU all fit in here, where would you put a dog?”
- “I am very displeased to see you used scotch tape on the walls” (referring to some drawings I let my daughter tape up in her room.
- when I voluntarily mentioned that we were aware of the marks the littles made on the walls and had plans to paint the inside this summer I was instructed that “cleaning them would be better” and then schooled in the proper ways to clean walls.
- I was lectured on how filthy dogs and cats were, especially cats. BUT, informed that “if I waited and watched” that I could find a hypoallergenic dog at the SPCA.
- I was informed how it’s not the cost of getting the dog that was expensive, it was it’s upkeep.
He went in every room. Even INTO my bedroom. Then he stood at the doors (upstairs only, not the living room or kitchen) and took pictures with his tablet. My bedroom (bed, laundry, gun cabinet), the children’s room, the tweens room, and my bathroom, pictures were taken of each of them.
When I asked him if there was something wrong (he was taking pics of my bathroom), he replied “not yet”.
When he walked in the kitchen, he asked “what did you do to my floor?”. I had to stifle a laugh because what he thought was a dent was nothing more than a piece of grass.
His wife quickly walked around the house and then they walked outside.
I don’t understand. I feel violated. I feel judged.
I tried to understand that they had not seen the property in three years, best to see the “before” before you let us bring in a pet. But pictures of my bed? Pictures of my toilet? He didn’t even look at the carpet.
I feel like white trash scum right now because I have four wonderful kids, with manners, and school work, and artistic abilities, and … omg… CLOTHES.
What happened to love growing in tiny houses?
What happened to “I pay you $800 a month to live here, it’s MY home, I can fill it with pizza and legos if I dang well please”?
I love this street. I love my neighbors. I want to leave. I’d go today if I could.
We wanted to buy this house from them. They mentioned us buying with them financing it but the list of “things we are worried you won’t be able to pay for” was insulting at best. Until our old home is done we will NEVER get approval for a bank loan. My only way out from this is to leave MY HOME (his house, my home).
I’m trying to understand his side but I just can’t wrap my head around it. The rudeness. The lectures. I’m not his kid. I’m not a child. We have taken care of HIS house as if we owned it. We fixed toilets and sinks and dishwashers. The faucet I purchased, the mailbox I purchased, and the pest control… I pay for… every other month. I’ve never asked them for a thing in THREE YEARS.
I just don’t get it.