Cockroaches

My mom was looking through those pictures last night and we were wondering what it was about that house that made my parents say, "We'll take that one!"

The answer: It was cheap.

Had my mom known how much work it would have been, how the work would never end, and that the neighborhood was really not very good - she probably would not have allowed my dad to buy it.

My dad and my uncle were pretty sneaky about covering up how much work this house would be. In fact, when they bought it, they told my mom that she was not to go into the basement. So, of course, she did. As my dad showed her down the steep flight of stairs, pulling away spiderwebs and all sorts of grossness, he reminded her of how things could be cleaned up and fixed.

When they reached the basement and my dad flipped on the light, my mom saw movement. Fleeing. Hundreds of cockroaches hiding in the shadows of the rocks and dirt mounds. *shudder* My mom was none too pleased. However, the house was bought, and the work began.

I remember my little kindergarten friend stopping by to see my new house and as I was showing her around I brought her to the top of the stairs of the basement. Mind you, I was used to a dirt floor basement. Our house on Frank Street had a cellar (like the one on Wizard of Oz or Twister, where they have the two doors that open up and you walk down...) anyway, it was like that only we didn't have to go outside to get to it. My dad wouldn't let us down in the basement, but instead pretended to BE a giant cockroach from the basement. He made all sorts of hissing noises and said really weird things. My friend was weirded out, but I was laughing.

My dad's really funny.