I'm Not Making This Up

The thing I remember the most was that it was so stressful. Everything that happened just proved what a bad decision it was, but we were stuck. We had to make the best of it. I worked about 16 hours a day just trying to make it livable. I remember that even every single window was nailed shut--even the one on the door to the garage. Two weeks after we had moved in we got the floors refinished, so we moved to the basement for a week. The first night we were sleeping down there, we heard a scurrying sound above our heads. We got traps and caught a two and a half foot rat. I'm not kidding. Unbelievable. I was so so so creeped out. After the floors were done things calmed down some. I could start renovating.

That's me working on the kid's bathroom. After I did that, I wanted to work on the basement bathroom. There was carpet in it (ew), so I pulled it out and planned to just put some vinyl tiles in. When I got the flooring out, I discovered the floor was wet. So to figure out what was wrong we had our handyman come over. After ripping up the wall behind the toilet, he discovered why all of the baseboards were rotted. There was another pipe in the wall that had been cut in two. And not put back together. This had obviously been going on for years, but the sellers didn't disclose it, and the inspector missed it. We made phone calls and wrote letters, but we were out of luck. We just chalked it up to the house from hell. Remember we had moved here to save money? Ha! Every extra bit of money we had went to the house.