(More than) Fourinarow.net

This is an open letter to the b*tch who currently owns the house we are trying to buy.

You set the price on the house. Not us. We negotiated a bit and you agreed to the final amount. If you’re suddenly unhappy, it’s not our fault. We know the house has been on the market for a year, on and off. If it was soooooo great, someone would have snatched it up before us. And paid top dollar.

It’s a nice house. It suits our needs. But, it’s older. The kitchen sucks and needs to be completely redone. The furnace and the air conditioning unit are on their last leg. So is the roof. And the driveway. In addition to those obvious things, there are numerous other things that need to be done to bring the house up to code. Yes. CODE.

Maybe you don’t understand the concept of a contract, but when you sign one, you are bound to it. That means you are supposed to show up, on the date stated, hand over the keys and receive the money you stated you wanted for your home. You are not supposed to call the title company without notifying your lawyer, our lawyer, your realtor, our realtor, etc and tell them that the closing has been pushed back.

From what we understand, you are pissed off because we asked you to fix the things that the inspector found that needed to be fixed. You’re pissed and offended that we’re not falling all over ourselves to snatch up your house “as is.”

What buyer doesn’t ask for obvious defects to be repaired? Helllloooooo. We’re not idiots. We want to buy your home, but we also want it to be safe and comfortable for us and our children.

Yes, our children. Three of which will start school next week. Not that you care. If you had followed the agreement stated in the contract, we would have closed today and our things from storage would have arrived on Friday. (Giving us a couple of days to have the house and the carpets cleaned, as well as have a contractor look at the kitchen.)

The kids start school on Monday. New school. New town. They know no one. It’s scary, you know? Especially for kids ages 6, 5 and 3. I had planned for us to be in a house, at least, by the time school started. Now, since you’re busy throwing tantrums, the kids will still be living in a hotel when they attend their first day of school. Nice.

Just so you know, you’re very lucky I married the man I did. He’s the one keeping this deal together. I told him, the lawyer and our realtor today that if you couldn’t possibly close on the house tomorrow (after having signed a contract to close TODAY) that I was not interested in buying the house. Forget it. It’s a sign. Your house is not for us. It’s not like we were in love with it anyway. It needs a lot of work. We can go a different route, find something more suitable. No thank you.

Lucky for you the lawyers, realtors and my husband prevailed. They’ve agreed to close on Friday (if you decide to keep that commitment). The movers can’t come until next week, though, so the kids will go to school during their first week still living in a hotel, after all. I haven’t yet been able to buy all the school supplies they need, as I don’t have any place to put it. I guess I’ll store it in the trunk of the car. Thanks.

Although I had the gas, water, garbage, cable, telephone and internet services ready to go, I now have to reschedule all of them. Definitely no cable, phone or internet until late next week. Whoohooo! Gotta love that.

Thanks for sucking any possible enjoyment out of us owning your home. I’m sure the rest of your family would be so proud.

I hope it makes you happy. ‘Cause right now your house is the last place I want to live.

I may have been backed into a corner, but by the time I’m finished with the house, you won’t recognize it. It will look much better than you could have imagined and be worth way more than we bought it from you for.