The camper looks good enough to me. From what I've seen in pictures. I haven't gone in there with a white glove, swiping surfaces. Farmer H is devoting way more elbow grease to this camper than he ever has to our own house(s). In fact, it might just be his elbow grease that mars the stovetop that he is so desperate to clean.
I was driving past the $5000 house on Wednesday (it's on my short cut, now that the main street has been under construction for 6 months of a year-long project) when Farmer H called me.
"If you go in The Devil's Playground, get me some oven cleaner. I've tried several different cleaners on this stove top, and they didn't work. I'm thinking oven cleaner might. I can clean the oven with it, too."
"I'm not going to The Devil's Playground today. I'm going on Thursday or Friday. I'll look then. What are you doing now?"
"I'm on my way to the camper dealer to get a couple of little parts that I need."
REEEEE! Screech me to a halt! If Farmer H was out in town, why did I have to be the one to buy his oven cleaner?
"Why can't you get your own oven cleaner?"
"I guess I can. I can go to the Dollar Store. But I was just there this morning to buy paper towels."
"I'm sure they'll sell to you again."
"Yeah. Probably."
I was kind of fired up about Farmer H wanting to use ME to run his errands, while he does fun things like
On Thursday, the Audacitor struck again.
"I'm going to need my money back that I've been spending on the $5000 house."
"Well, you'll get it when the camper sells. I'm pretty sure we agreed on that."
"I can't go forever with no money."
"You have money. Just stop spending it on guns to sell at your Storage Unit Store. You have a lot of money tied up in guns that you're only going to make $20 or $30 profit on. I don't think it's worth it."
"Twenty dollars is twenty dollars. That's profit!"
"But all your money is in them. We already gave you part of your money back that you spent on the house. It was in March. Before we went to visit The Pony."
"I know. I've got it written down."
"How much do you think we owe you now?"
"About $1600."
"Where do you think I'm going to get THAT?"
"Why don't you use your lottery money? That you won. Then you'll get it back when the camper sells."
"WHAT? You want me to use MY lottery money to pay you back your Storage Unit Store money that you spent on the house?"
"Yeah."
"Why in the Not-Heaven would I do THAT? That's LUCKY money! This is your project! It was your idea. You came up with it on the way back from The Pony visit. While we were driving. YOU had the idea, and YOU said you'd spend your money on it until we got it back."
"I don't see why it has to be MY money!"
"Because it's YOUR project, YOUR idea, and YOU said that's how we'd finance the repairs!"
"Well, I don't see how that's fair."
There's a lot Farmer H doesn't understand about FAIR.
It's kind of like my relationship with IRONY.
4 comments:
Hick sounds quite a bit like my first ex who thought any money at all was his, even raiding the kids money boxes that never held more than a couple of dollars in small change. I had to hide money in many different places so when he raided my purse all he got was a few dollars. His income was about three times as much as mine, but that doesn't go far when you are gambling I suppose. He'd tell me (not ask) to 'lend' him $10 for petrol otherwise we couldn't get to work, so I'd give him the $10 and found out months later that he'd buy cigarettes with it and put his petrol "on the book" which means petrol now and pay later. I found out when I opened a letter from the service station stating no more petrol would be allowed until he'd paid the $400 account.
River,
Farmer H has the idea that HIS money is his, OUR money is his, and MY money is his! He's always been like that, when talking about our house or land, saying MY house, and MY land. He doesn't really waste the money, but he buys things I don't think are absolutely necessary, without consulting me. Like the second tractor, and a riding lawnmower. And of course the $1000 shoe inserts from The Good Feet Store. Plus that car lift thing to put in the Freight Container Garage, which has never been used, because he immediately filled up that building with the contents of 18 storage units.
Every now and then, Farmer H would put gas purchases on the debit card. Then not tell me, until I found out using the automated bank line to balance my check book register. He always has some excuse, like it was for the truck and not the car. I broke him of it by reducing his next week's cash allowance by what he'd put on the debit.
Your ex sounds like Farmer H's ex, who said she was paying the bills, yet was hiding them under the mattress, and taking family and friends out to eat every day. It went so far that their bills went to collection, and we had to pay off those charges when we were first married. Farmer H only found out when her oldest boy, a couple years older than HOS, took him into the bedroom and told him to look under the mattress.
But, don't all men think like that? Isn't it part of their DNA? HeWho just bought another mower. A small rider to be able to maneuver around the sites. He even discussed it with me! I gave him the go ahead, since that mowing was falling on me to do now that Kevin is so sick. I was hoping we could both attend Layla's graduation, but Kevin now has a staph infection in the opening created by his feeding tube. He could cover the store and reservations for me without any problems, but he is also scheduled for another chemical to be added to his next chemo treatment. His sister-in-law has been taking care of his wound and seems to think any suggestion I make is to be avoided. She seems to resent me for insisting he go to the hospital initially. I succumb to her wishes to her face, then go ahead and do what I think should be done behind her back. His wound was looking wicked yesterday morning and he was in a good bit of pain. I told him it was infected and he should go back to the ER for some antibiotics and pain meds. At this point, there is absolutely no reason he should ever be in pain. But, she knows best and she went on "cleaning the stoma, without any sterile technique at all. I am trying to hold back since she is also a tenant here, but if you hear about a good bitch slap happening my way, well, it was me! He did end up back at the ER and got some heavy duty antibiotics, as well as pain meds and she got some instruction in stoma care. Seems I was right …. again!
Kathy,
It's too bad that you both can't make Layla's graduation, but Kevin seems to need you right now. I'll be waiting to hear that "slap heard 'round the state." It seems to have been coming for a while now.
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