Still Hard to Manage

So of course, just as I let the inner bitch out to rant and rave about the unknowingly annoying antics of my landlord, ring... ring... Waking both the hubby and I mind you, how about we (I say we, but my hubby did all the work) do a laundry list of things that we are no longer responsible for. Of course the hubby said yes.

If you met the man that we paid our monthly rent to, you would better understand how hard it is to say no to him. Not only is this little old man in failing health but he is incredibly soft spoken and like the nicest damn guy you can find. So nice, you feel bad saying "damn" in fact.

Two ladders, six light bulbs, a trip with the broom through the hallway and laundry room, a trip with the mop through the hallway and the laundry room and a few other menial tasks later, the hubby (in an attempt to further discourage the use of us in his maintenance tasks) asked the landlord for a little more compensation then the job really called for. Really, fifty bucks for everything said and done was probably a bit much, but oh well. He paid and now we wait for the next time, because, as we have learned by now, there will be a next time.