My daughter -- the one with the husband who wanted a divorce for Christmas -- is moving into a duplex on Wednesday so I probably won't be here for a few days. She needs help packing and she has some painting to do. She is going to need some help.
The photos of the cute little duplex that she saw online showed milk chocolate walls with white baseboards and trim. When she actually went to see it the current tenant had painted the living room green, the kitchen purple, one bedroom orange, and my daughter was so blinded by color she can't remember what shade the bigger bedroom was, other than it was awful. The landlord was agreeable to her request of painting it back to neutral colors as long as he didn't have to provide paint or labor. He had it professionally cleaned, but painting, no. Sigh.
The rent is what my daughter could afford, the neighborhood isn't scary, but mainly it is the only place in her price range that would let her have her big dog, a lab mix. I don't know how much Simmons weighs but a lot more than the 20 lb limit most apartments have for pets. He is a big ol' baby, and he thinks he is a little dog. We know he is spoiled rotten. He is family to her and her boys, and he will make her feel safe so I am glad she found some place that would let Simmons move with her.
I'm really, really glad because if she had not been able to find a place that would take him Simmons would have ended up with me. I could not have added hurt to my grandsons by saying no, I won't take in your dog.
Snatch this place before someone else gets it, I advised my daughter. It will be cute once it is painted. That's my story.