Ok, so we have an offer on our house. It’s a bit low, but the folks agreed to an as-is clause, so if something else drops off the house between now and closing, we ain’t fixing it. Guy will probably fix it up a bit and flip the sucker. Oh well. We just need the thing sold.
On a lighter note, when my wife filled out Kevin’s school paperwork, she was a little too detailed when it asked about the language spoken at home. It’s English. But when Kevin was three, he spoke a little Japanese, and not wanting to slight him any skills, Miyuki wrote on his school form that the languages spoken at home are English and Japanese.
Kevin only knows dirty words in Japanese now, but who am I to argue?
Today Kevin was approached by school administrators and told he needed to spend the next two hours taking a basic English competency test to make sure he could understand the coursework. It cut through band and part of lunch. He was furious. He kept telling them he spoke English and only English. “I came from VIRGINIA!” he told them, as if that backed his point up. They told him, sorry. The form says Japanese as well, and rules are rules.
So angry Kevin has learned two important life lessons today.
1. Anything handled by the government will be mishandled.
2. Don’t let your Mom do your paperwork.