In March 2020, my wife and I bought our first house. Immediately afterward, the world shut down completely and hundreds of thousands of people died.
I am trying very hard not to take that personally.
When looking for a house to buy with your in-law's money, there are three main criteria you must consider:
Does the house have good bones?
Is the house in a nice neighborhood?
Does it have an extra bedroom just for your cat?
By all accounts, the little house on Libbey Lane has been a rousing success. Good pipes. Open kitchen. Plenty of random corners to shit in when you're not feeling up to walking to the litter box.
But homeownership is no cakewalk. Here are some important pointers for newbies:
Enemies are Everywhere! Beware! Beware!
If you don't think the Amazon delivery guy is seconds away from breaking down your front door and eating everyone's face, you're living in a fantasy world.
Danger lurks! It surrounds your home! Danger pushes a small child in a stroller and tries to pick up your recycling every other Thursday.
If you don't have finely honed instincts for mayhem, get yourself a roommate that does.
Just keep in mind that there is no such thing as a "false alarm." You can never know who would or wouldn't actually drink your blood and steal your Playstation. The results are all that matter. And so far, we've got most of our blood and all of our Playstation.
That's a win to me.
Do Not Challenge the Spirits of the Dilapidated Shed
Nearly all good houses come with a haunted shed, and ours is no exception.
I don't know what the shed spirits want. Do they want us to buy a lawn mower and put it in the shed? Do they want us to remove the wasps from the shed? Do they want us to add more wasps to the shed? It's futile to try and understand the sort of spook that would willingly inhabit such a tremendously crummy shed. They are beyond my worldly vision.
All I know is that the shed spirits were here before us and we must respect their claim to a small corner of our backyard.
At least until we hire someone to tear that broken-ass thing down. I'm not above letting someone else catch a curse for me.
Good Floor Plans Build from the Christmas Tree Out
The first and most obvious thing about any good house should be where the Christmas tree is going to go. If you have to look for an adequate spot you've made a terrible mistake.
A good Christmas tree spot should balance practicality with aesthetics.
Easy access to an electrical outlet? Check.
Near multiple windows, so your neighbors may gaze upon your work in awe and barely concealed jealousy? Check.
Plenty of floor space for presents, but also mostly cat naps under the tree? Check.
Christmas is about a lot of things: eating, drinking, spending money, and maybe love, I guess? But more than anything, it's about the vibes. And good Christmas vibes start with a great Christmas tree spot.
Be Prepared for Any Wildass Bullshit that Might Happen
The cornerstone of successful homeownership is hording and paranoia. Because - and this cannot be overstated - you never know.
People legitimately froze to death in Texas this past winter. South Texas. The part of Texas where gummy bears liquefy if you leave them in your car at the wrong time of day in July.
Look, the heat I accept. The near constant catastrophic flooding? Sure, every region needs a gimmick. But if we're doing ice storms now, all bets are off.
That's why, as a homeowner, you need to be prepared. You have a house now. You have a garage. It's your duty to continually absorb the random detritus that life tosses at your front door.
A pair of worn out snow pants you outgrew in high school? Can't toss those. What if you meet an orphaned scavenger child in the new frozen wasteland of Houston? You'd feel pretty bad if you'd thrown out those snow pants, wouldn't you?
The box to an old coffee maker? Sure, you lost the coffee maker itself in 2008, but it might come back. And wouldn't you feel like an asshole if you didn't have the box then? The coffee maker never lost faith - why did you??
Of course, refusing to throw away genuinely busted junk is only part of the game. You also need to keep the good stuff in stock. If you don't have enough bottled water and toilet paper to get you through the pandemic that comes after the next pandemic, you're playing with fire. I have three microwave light bulb replacements on deck. I have more bottles of hand sanitizer than living relatives. I will not be taken unaware by the course of human events, both natural and otherwise.
Owning a home is a wonderful privilege and a terrible responsibility. I highly recommend it. Especially if you get some fun roommates.
Your pets are unbearably cute.