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INCOMPETENCE CAN
COME IN HANDY |
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My oldest son and his wife, in their early 30's and pregnant
with their first child, didn't think having a baby was enough of a
disruption to their lives. So they went ahead and closed escrow last week
on a house that is an absolute money pit.
"Are you two out of your minds?" I asked as we
toured the House That Needs Everything. "How are you going to manage
it all?"
My son just shrugged. He was very much like his father. Just
sign the deal and assume everything will work out. It's been a good mantra
for me over the years, with a few blips, and he expected the same.
This was an enormous undertaking, and after I told them they
were nuts, I also told them that I was proud of them. It could turn out to
be a very good investment after they're done remodeling in about 20 years.
The good news is that the new house was very close to our
house and, more importantly, also very close to the in-law's house. As all
the parents toured the house to celebrate the close of escrow, the
discussion naturally turned to who could help in this massive undertaking.
As I looked at the leaky plumbing, the shoddy electrical
fixtures, the dilapidated floors, the water-damaged siding, the peeling
paint, the crumbling tile and the disaster of a yard, I had never been so
happy to be completely incompetent when it came to household projects.
"Wish I could help," I said to all the parents in
attendance, "but as you know, I have trouble screwing in lightbulbs."
"I figured as much," replied my son. "The
problem is I'm every bit as incompetent as you are because you were
totally incapable of teaching me anything."
"That's not true," I said, not offended in the
least. "Remember that I told you to marry a woman who had a handy
father."
We both looked at his father-in-law, whom I'll call Fred (not
even close to his real name). He had helped them do all kinds of things in
their last house, and it needed 1/100th of the work this one did. In other
words, Fred was in for a lifetime job.
He held his hands up, but we all knew he could never say no.
My daughter-in-law was his only child, and he loved to help. Since he was
mostly retired from his professional career, he had plenty of time to
cater to her every whim.
So his mild protests were completely ignored. As we
toured the house, I pointed out all the things that Fred could do for
them. And I pointed out over and over again that I would be glad to help
as well---if I wasn't totally incompetent.
Of course, some projects only required brute labor and
no technical expertise. All I had to do was point to my recent back
surgery to get out of that work. Besides, my son was big and
strong and could certainly hold the ladder for Fred.
The whole house was Fred's new domain. Well, there was one
exception. While I tried to explain to Fred that he was certainly capable
of power-washing the filthy Spanish tiles on the steeply sloping roof, he
balked at risking his life. I gave him a pass on that one.
Everything else was on the table. Not only would Fred save my
son and daughter-in-law a ton of money, he could spend valuable time with
the young couple. I was very happy for him.
"I do play golf on Wednesdays," he said as we
pointed out another project. "I'd like to continue doing so."
"Not anymore!" I gleefully responded, only
half-kidding. "Your daughter needs you here. I can't wait to see what
you can accomplish. When can I expect you to mount their television on the
wall? I want to come over and watch some games."
"I'll make that a priority," he replied, wondering
if he'd ever play golf again.
I had taught my son well. He had married the woman of his
dreams, and as a bonus got the father-in-law of his dreams. He would save
them a bucketload of money.
Fred is the perfect compliment to my incompetence. My only
worry is that my son will be so grateful he'll start calling him
"Dad." That might hurt. |
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