Sometime around the end of May, we actually were able to meet up and go to an open house for a group of townhouses in a co-op complex. The outside of the units had something to be desired, but the inside of the unit we looked at was super cute, clean, and we quickly learned that the community was pretty close-knit and filled with families and kids. Also, it wasn’t expensive. We decided to put in an application.
The boys are ridiculously different in what they notice. Doyle went around with me and looked at everything, cable outlets, bathrooms, the works – we pretty much decided what rooms we wanted, and while Dyck did that with us, afterwards he pretty much just remained downstairs in the living room, staring out the back window.
Note, this is one of those rare for-rent places that’ll actually let its tenants change things. We could paint the walls, hang things, work on the yard, everything, as long as we returned it to normal before we moved out if and when we moved.
Doyle and I go downstairs and Doyle says pretty darn chipperly, “So, Chris, what do you think?”
“I am getting rid of everything.”
He wrinkles his lip and points outside at the tiny garden-area outside that is probably a little worse for wear, but not something I really cared too much about. He couldn’t leave the area.
“I’m going to take out those stones, and put this in, and maybe a hedge in the corner, and-”
Doyle and I tried to explain to him that this wasn’t necessarily the exact unit we’d be getting, if our application went through and we got off the wait-list before school. He wouldn’t have it. He looked at us completely seriously.
“It’ll be ugly for a month,” he said, “and then I’m taking out everything.”
After, Doyle ranted at the lady hosting about getting a position on the board at the co-op, and meanwhile, I asked questions about, you know, the unit.
On the way home, Dyck discussed with me what color of flowers would be best for the garden. We pretty much decided on yellow and blue.