What Were They Thinking?

 What Were They Thinking? A Story About the Prior Owners of My Home

Do you ever want to punch the prior owners of your home? I'd like to torture the original owners of my home. I frequently have dreams where I track them down, wrap them in the six rooms worth of floral f***ing wallpaper that I many a weekend removing, and then crush them under the weight of the ceramic tile floor they had installed in the kitchen. Never mind that the rest of the first floor of the house is hardwood, these dipshits paid for ceramic tile (that I swear to god has PEACH!! undertones) to be laid in the kitchen. Why? 1. Because cleary they were idiots. 2. Because they wanted me to have to cook while wearing Mario Batali-looking orange Crocs or develop plantars fasciitis.

I’m ranting about this because we had the house appraised earlier this week and the appraiser referred to the ceramic tile as an "upgrade." Upgrade over what? A floor made of nails, bee stingers, and jellyfish? One made from the discarded hideous floral outfits worn by the female casts of 90210 and Saved by the Bell? Exactly what is it that people are using for floors over which ceramic tile can be considered an improvement?

Sure, I could be mad about the price difference between what we paid for the place in April 2007 and what it’s worth now. But that’s not the issue. If we hadn’t bought this house (or some other house in the Spring of 2007) we’d still be living in a 2 bedroom townhouse in Burtonsville. So no, what I choose to be mad about is a ceramic tile floor that hurts to walk barefoot on, is ugly as hell, will have to be jack-hammered to be removed, and which has provided a not so soft landing surface for my daughters whom have both managed to do headers down the stairs in the last few months.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish that floor was linoleum. At least then I could just pull it up and lay down a cork floor. Because in the list of things I won’t do, is “try to remove a ceramic tile floor.”

Join us next time for "A story about the Ryland Homes, aka, why wouldn't you want one of your porch lights to be a good three inches lower than the one on the other side of the door?"