On June 28, my husband and I bought our first home. Yes, we are a little late in the game, but we don’t want to grow up. Buying a first house was a stressful and time-consuming experience, just as everyone warned. I didn’t believe them. Then we were in the thick of it. Then we learned. Folks told us we would collect a number of stories about house-buying. They were right about that as well.

For instance, the alarm company ripped us off while installing the alarm. Yes, it’s true. The installers were two “punk-ass kids,” one of whom was coming barefoot into the house, putting on my husband’s Air Jordans, and walking out with them. The thief managed to lift two pairs before I caught him!

Now, we find ourselves in suburban digs, with a shoebox house that looks like all the other shoebox houses, on a street of manicured lawns. Our lawn is resistant. Sheets stand in for curtains in the windows. The best thing about the house, besides the living room that perfectly fits our home theater, is the kid’s room. She’s is claiming that room with a vengeance. For her birthday, we gave her a black light and glow stars, which she has plastered -everywhere-.

Things are finally settling down now, and for the first time in my life, I feel sorta grownup.

In the house-buying process, I did find this great book called The Virgin Homeowner, by Janice Papolos, which taught me about the structural aspects of a house. The book rocked. The home inspector, who also bought it, said he will now recommend it to all his new homeowner clients.

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