So, um, we agreed on a price with the vendors.
The house is ours.
This is fantastic, fantastic news except that the banks are all very brow furrowy and head shakey when it comes to considering Beefcake’s foreign income.
We are pushing ahead regardless. We have a three week finance clause in our contract. We are convinced that if we wish hard enough our mortgage broker will be able to pull it off. The reality is that he may be able to pull it off with a few tweaks here and there that will leave us utterly poverty stricken for the next 35 years.
I’m sure it will work out, right?
A baby who can now walk quite well by the way. She’ll be ten months old next week and she is scarily mobile. Also falls over a lot. She got her last central incisor on Easter Sunday. She now has six toothy teeth. And a cute topknot tuft of hair at her crown. Such a big girl. Beefcake tells me several times a day that she is actually a toddler now but he is a moron. She is a baby.
At least, no matter what happens with the house, we have her*.
*And the others of course, I wasn’t meaning to discount them but you know, the photo is of her – and mmmmmm babies.