My not so little, little brother, Jerry, is buying his first home.
I like to think I've helped him into this adventure. OK, I'll even take 40% credit for it. I have been quite a pest.
Years of prodding and teasing are paying off. See, the males on my mom's side of the family tend to... ahem .... not leave the nest very willingly. Currently, my brother is 28 years old, making good money as a firefighter / paramedic and still has never lived on his own. I will cut him some slack in the full knowledge that my mom has never made it easy for him to leave. She cooks, she cleans, she buys the groceries *and* while she would never, ever come right out and ask him not to leave, I know she is quietly panicking about it.
This is where I come in. I understood that there was no reason for him to leave during the first 26 years. He worked retail jobs until he was 21 and then made the decision to go to school for his EMT licence. At 23 he started applying for paramedic schools. At 26 he got his first above minimum wage job. Way above minimum wage. That is when my quips about turning into Uncle (pick a name) started to come into the picture.
This past March Jerry, Gracie and I went house hunting. Feverish and dripping sweat, we went house hunting. It has been a roller coaster of a hunt since then, but I think he finally has a winner. I don't want to jinx him, the closing isn't until September 11, but he was able to pick up this beauty for under cost and with all the furniture you see in the photos thrown in.
Oh, and don't get TOO excited. It is the end unit, not the whole thing. I just figured he wouldn't appreciate me posting his house number on the internet.