Here’s the deal. My parents bought our house back in 2000, then refinanced a short while later because the house needed some major repairs in order to be livable. They refinanced just as the housing boom was taking place, which means the house had pretty much doubled in value since they bought it. Like so many other people, they didn’t read the fine print.
Then my dad got sick, my mom’s hours got cut at work, and my dad’s employer started furloughs and took away the copious amounts of over time everyone had been getting for a solid six years. All that to say they could no longer afford their mortgage payment and defaulted on the loan. So my parents did the only thing they could think to do. They hired a lawyer to do a loan modification with the bank because the bank couldn’t seem to get it through their thick skulls that my parents weren’t millionaires.
The attorney ended up screwing them over royally, and now the mortgage payment is even higher than before they did the loan modification. So my parents hired ANOTHER attorney to get the bank to stop the foreclosure process.
And then my dad decided to put the house up for short sale, claiming he was “too embarassed” to have his house foreclosed on. Even though the attorney they hired this time actually did his job and managed to get the bank to stop foreclosure proceedings. Even though my baby brother is just months away from graduating high school. Even though Joe and I are this stinking close to being able to move. Even though my other baby brother is this close to finally finishing the credits he needs to graduate high school.
But oh no, his feelings are more important than all of that. He tries to tell us its going to be okay, that everything will work out.
And then he gets a phone call from the real estate agent yesterday. The bank has accepted the offer and we have 45 days to find a place to live for SIX people. Oh and we have to stay around here so G can finish high school. So not only do we have to find a rental property that will accept my parent’s credit, it also has to have at least four bedrooms, AND they have to allow pets.
And then my dad and mom go WTH happened? And I really kind of want to throttle the both of them.
They were the ones who signed the paperwork. They were the ones who were “too embarassed” to have their house foreclosed on. They were the ones who knew this could (and probably would) happen long before we were ready for it to happen. And they are both moping around like they don’t know why this is happening to them and they expect me to give them a break on shit like remembering to get fucking toilet paper because their world is suddenly spinning out of control.
Add to that fact that my parent’s credit is shot, and neither one of them has ever had to rent in their entire fucking lives, and you have a recipe for disaster. The best part of it all though? They are looking at rental properties that are only a few hundred dollars less than what their mortgage payment originally was, the one they claim they can’t afford! Oh and even though they haven’t paid a mortgage payment in like a year, they are suddenly broke. What I want to know is how, if we’re even lucky enough to find a place that will rent to us, they’re going to afford things like a security deposit, first and last months rent, and getting utilities set up at the new place.
And the icing on the fucking cake is just ridiculous. They want to use Joe’s and P’s income to income qualify for the places they are looking at, but Joe and I aren’t planning on being there for more than a couple of months, so I’m really concerned about how they are going to afford a place if they don’t have rent money from Joe and I. Plus P is trying to get his own place too, so they will be losing his income as well. And no telling what G is going to do once he graduates. If I were him I’d join the military and request to be sent as far away from this place as fast as possible. But that’s just me.
I think what’s pissing me off the most is their attitude. The rest of this is just details, but their attitude of “oh poor me, why is this happening to me?” is just getting old. They are the ones who did this. They dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s, not me, Joe, P, or G. Yet we’re the ones being the most affected by it all. We are the ones scrambling for a place to stay. My parents have the trailer if all else fails. G isn’t even sure if he’s going to be able to finish high school, and the stress of all this can’t be good for his already less than stellar GPA. P is just a couple of months away from being 21 and there is a very real possibility he could be homeless in 44 days. He may not even get the chance to really start his life, and all because my parents were “too embarassed” to have their house foreclosed on.
Yet you don’t see me moping around going “why me?” You don’t see P just giving up. G still went to school today. He is functioning, which is more than I can say for my dad. When I asked why no one had bothered to get fucking toilet paper, I was met with “Oh well your mom and I are under a lot of stress.” So much stress that you can’t remember fucking TOILET PAPER?!?!?! And then the end all to be all, I was told yesterday that I needed to “be strong for the family.”
So what, I’m not allowed to go to pieces, but heaven forbid I actually expect you to remember to get toilet paper? That’s a bunch of bullshit if you ask me.
NotMyBetterHalf 