Hotel California...Texas Style

You may not know that about a year and a half ago I agreed to help my mom buy a house. She has health problems and with me being here with her, she should be able to pay off the house before she retires. Before we moved in though, we made a solemn promise to each other that noone would live with us. No boyfriends, no friends, no homeless coworkers. We were buying this house with the absolute irrefutable understanding that there is no room at the inn.

Several times my mom has provided shelter to a wide variety of unfortunates. In fact, the deacon at our church has nicknamed her "Mother Homeless". Where did Dad stay after his IRS problems? He moved in with Mom. When a girl at my work was evicted with her 2 children, they stayed with Mom. When my sister's high school friends' parents moved to another city and they didn't want to go, they stayed with Mom. When a writer friend of Mom's wore out her welcome elsewhere, she stayed with Mom.

But in buying the house, we were making a clean start. Just me, Mom and my sister (when she isn't bunking with her boyfriend.) Absolutely noone else.

But July 4th weekend, my uncle called Mom and said he needed to move, and Mom said, "Well come on then."

WHAT? WHAT ABOUT OUR PROMISE? NOONE LIVES WITH US!!

My uncle, who is going through a nasty divorce, just had the engine in his truck seize so he had to buy a new car, owes money on taxes, can't pay his rent and has brought all his worldly posessions, his oldest son who is disabled due to a car accident (and that is a future blog, I promise), his dog and his bird to live in my house.

At first I felt bad, and my uncle said it would be only for a couple of months, so I moved out of my room, into the den attached to Mom's room, rolled out the air mattress and tried to make myself comfortable.

But the rent and grocery money we were told about hasn't happened yet. The dog is covered in fleas. The bird flings seeds everydamnwhere. And now my cousin is stealing money from our purses.

And they are probably staying until December.

I just want to be able to come home from work to my quiet house. I want to be able to walk across the floor and not trip on the dog. I want to watch tv and not have constant conversation. I want to be able to drive the car and not be poked and tickled. I want to sleep in my bed!

God help me, I'm living that Kirstie Alley/John Larroquette movie about the houseguests from hell that never leave.

So now I find myself pricing condos and thinking that it's time to check out of Hotel California. But like the song says, "You can check in but you can't ever leave."