Friday, March 28, 2008


We had an inspection today on our condo. Not the kind that happens when you are under contract to sell your home -- no, we're not there yet. But the kind of inspection that happens when your HOA is suing the homebuilder for building defects. Fun times.

We were told that someone would come by at 10:30 this morning and would need access to the attic entries. We were pleasantly surprised that they were accurate about the timing. But someONE was a bit of a stretch. At one point I counted TEN people in just the living room and kitchen, and that didn't include the people in the bedrooms, the loft, and the attics.

The rep from the law firm was very nice and informative. Turns out that each subcontractor from the original construction was allowed to send an inspector. Therefore, there were a gazillion people here, each looking at a different aspect from drywall to plumbing to roofing to flooring and so forth. I wish I had known the extent of it and was kind of embarrassed, wishing I had cleaned up a little more and moved more things out of the way. I found myself saying "Oh, just kick those toys if they are in your way... Here, let me move the highchair for you... Oops, careful not to step on the plastic Easter eggs..."

I was extremely grateful that John made sure to schedule this appointment for a time when he could come home and be here for it. Maybe I've watched the news one too many times in my life, but the headline "Woman is attacked in her home by someone impersonating a repairman" tends to take hold of my active imagination. Besides that, the arrival of these many men (and one woman) as they streamed into our home made my baby cry, so I spent the first few minutes comforting him while John got the lowdown on their plan. We also didn't know about the third attic entry in our loft closet, so John emptied the contents onto the guest bed while the inspectors hauled in their ladders, plastic tarps, digital cameras, and clipboards.

They were all very nice, calling us "ma'am" and "sir" and asking about the ages of our kids, etc. My ever-hospitable husband offered to make a pot of coffee, though they all politely declined as they continued their work.

They scheduled an hour and a half to get their inspection done, but after an hour the last gentleman was leaving, thanking us, and wishing us a good day, as they all had. (Seriously, polite!) John and I looked at each other and joked about them all being gone, saying "How do we really know? Maybe one of them is still in the attic, waiting for us to fall asleep tonight..." [insert nervous laughter here]

Really, I need to watch less TV.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I can so relate to your overactive imagination! :) Cessy