The Oregon Book Report - Book News from Oregon

How much damage can two boys do when I leave my house?

August 29, 2012

Tawna Fenske
Oregon romance writer
Believe it or Not
Blog “Don’t pet me, I’m writing”

If I ever again suggest I’d like to pack up my entire household and move to a different home, you have my permission to slam my nipples in the kitchen cupboard repeatedly until I black out.  Now that we’ve got that out of the way, you’ll be happy to know my move is complete. We’re still living out of boxes, and my former home still contains many odds and ends that must be relocated.

The housemates, for example.  Many of you have followed my housemate stories from the beginning, but for those just joining the party, here’s a recap: at the start of my divorce in the spring of 2011, the home I shared with my ex proved to be the most challenging asset to divide. Knowing the process might drag out a long time and that prostitution wasn’t a desirable method of paying the mortgage, I rented out two rooms in the home to a couple of twenty-something boys.

Besides helping me to make my house payments, those housemates have provided all of us with significant entertainment value over the last sixteen months.

But all good things must come to an end, and by that I mean my gentleman friend and I were so desperate for privacy that we’d taken to necking in the coat closet.

So now we’ve moved. But since the sale of my former home won’t actually close until late August, I offered the housemates an option.

“I’m taking all my furniture when we move August 1,” I explained. “Couches, chairs, lamps, dining room table, all the cookware in the kitchen. Same with the refrigerator and the washer & dryer – everything’s going with us.”

The housemates considered that a moment. “Are you turning off the power?” one of them asked.

“I guess not,” I said.

“Water? Sewer?”

I assured them I planned to keep all the utilities going, minus the internet. And I confirmed that the new owners won’t take possession until late August.

“We’re staying then,” they decided.

So they set up their camp chairs in the living room, dragged their record collection out of my antique armoire, filled a cooler with beer and Oreos, and made themselves at home in front of their big-screen TV.

I walked through the living room the next day and squinted at the TV.

“You don’t have cable and you can’t stream Netflix through the internet anymore, so what on earth are you watching?” I asked.

“PBS,” one of them replied.

“It’s a special about sharks.”

“Right,” I said. “Good to see you’re making yourselves comfortable.”

“It could be better,” one of them replied. “When are you taking the hammock?”

Before I had a chance to consider the question, they scurried outside and carried the hammock in from the second-story deck.

“Perfect,” they declared, and sat down to watch the Spanish channel.

I have a sneaking suspicion my realtors will be forced to physically drag them from the house when closing day comes for the buyers. I’d kinda like to be there for that.

Mostly because I want my hammock back.

  
Print This Post Print This Post    Email This Post Email This Post

Discuss this article

Ruth August 29, 2012

LOL!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Please answer the following question to confirm that you are a real person: *

Latest Headlines

Subscribe to Weekly Updates

 

Top Business News

 

Top Natural Resource News

 

Top Faith News

 

Copyright © 2017, OregonReport. All Rights Reserved. | Terms of Use - Copyright - Legal Policy | Contact Oregon Report

Stay Tuned...

Stay up to date with the latest political news and commentary from Oregon Women's Report through weekly email updates:

Delivered by FeedBurner

Prefer another subscription option? Subscribe to our RSS Feed, become a fan on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.

RSS Twitter Facebook

No Thanks (close this box)