Like living in Kansas

I've heard Kansas is quite flat. So flat, that you can see the guest you expect at your house in an hour slowly make his way towards your house down a straight and narrow road. This analogy was told to me many years ago by a friend in college. I really haven't the slightest idea how we got to talking about Kansas but forever an image of a pure, flat expanse that allows for a vision of the future to be seen has been something that I remember. How cool must it be to watch your friend's car, an hour out, slowly become larger and more present on the horizon? I imagine it is the closest thing we'll have in life to Matrix bullet-time: when Canoe Reeves (Neo) hacks the machine and causes the laws of physics to be bent so that he can jump great distances, dodge bullets, and model black leather trench coats with great aplomb and flair.

Today, the Wifer and I signed the papers to take possession of Henry. We saw numbers that were quite large and caused us to temporarily loose our breath. Truly, I felt like I was living in Kansas (except with Bay Area home prices). For almost three months now I could see this day slowly arriving, bottom line in tow. As the notary guided us through the daunting paperwork (and it was truly daunting), our Shark was there. I imagine for him the experience is much like a father at childbirth. A father stands by, holds his partner's hand and gives encouraging words.

"Come on hon, you can do it! Push!!"

But in reality, there is nothing the father can do except provide comfort. This is what our Shark did for us today. As we saw this day approach like a car on a flat plain in Kansas, we went into labor (it's my blog - I'll choose to mix metaphors as I please!). Legs in stirrups with the epidural wearing off too soon, the Wifer and I collectively pushed the pen as we signed each document and further committed ourselves to this new venture. The Shark was trying to comfort us with talks of instant wealth in a LTV of 86% (a personal record for him). We kept pushing past the pain, making it to the bottom of the pile both looking at this new addition to our family (represented by a Chicago Title folder) and wanting to scream out loud in Home Alone style "Fuuuuuuuuuuck!!!"

I've always heard that the first time you buy a house it is the hardest. I really hope so because next time I'd rather meet my friend at the airport (on my terms) rather than freak out as I try to get everything set for him.