A parasite lives in my house
September 14th 2010 23:46
He watches our TV, eats our food, and doesn't work or go to school. He's supposed to be looking for a job, but we suspect he spends most days watching TV and surfing the internet.
Oh, and he's almost 40 years old.
No, he's not our son--our son is in grade 4, and pointedly does not spend all day watching TV, though he is rather attached to his Nintendo DS. This parasite--let's call him Adam--is a distant friend of the family. And by distant I mean that he's really my husband's friend, not our friend.
Adam arrived on our doorstep with his few belongings and his cat. (Okay, to be precise--he has no car, so my husband picked him up.) He had a condo, but he lost his job and could no longer afford the monthly payments. He then moved back in with his parents. Unfortunately, his relationship with his family is a fractious one, and he had a particularly nasty blow-out with family. As a result, Adam was metaphorically kicked to the curb.
Adam's always had personal issues. They became more apparent in the past few years, when his presence in my husband's loosely defined group of friends and acquaintances became more and more scarce. I think the relative 'success' of his peers depressed him. (By 'success' I don't mean millionaires with trophy wives, perfect kids, and nice cars; just normal, everyday adult guy stuff.) Every get-together meant that he'd be faced with all that normalcy. And there he'd be, in his 30s, broke, precariously employed, single, and painfully self-conscious.
Maybe we all know someone like Adam. He doesn't quite fit in, and not by choice. You watch him and your other friends and can see few interests, personality traits, or anything else that might arouse an affinity between them. You wonder, how did he become friends with them?
But I think I know what happened in Adam's case. When they became friends over a decade ago, my husband and Adam had more in common. And while my husband evolved--as is natural--Adam stayed the same.
Despite some trepidation on the subject, we did not want to see Adam living on the street. We gave him our guest room, with the understanding that it would be a temporary arrangement while he pulled himself together.
A few days after Adam moved in, I offered to look at his resume. Let's just say that it would not have looked out of place printed on a dot-matrix printer. Spelling/grammar mistakes were also egregious. Later, Adam admitted that he hadn't bothered updating it, aside from adding subsequent employment history, since 1999.
The state of his resume ought to have told me something about Adam, which I've only just started to see.
We told Adam that this was no free ride. We had to buy more food for him and his cat, and also provide him with bus fare in case he needed to go out. In return, we expected him to take care of some household chores like vacuuming and mowing the lawn. In other words, he had to contribute to the household in some manner, since his presence would contribute to bills but not to household income. Most importantly, he would have to make a concerted effort to find work and a place to live. The approach might seem unduly harsh, but it's what my husband and I agreed would work best in this case. (He says it's tough love. I call it pragmatism.)
It didn't take long, however, for Adam to lapse into some worrisome, and irritating, habits.
One day my husband came home to a puddle of cat pee on the carpet. Adam had left it alone because he "didn't know where the carpet cleaner" was. (A cursory look in some cupboards would have enlightened him.) Had he had any intention of cleaning it up, he should have texted, emailed, or called us about the carpet cleaner. But he didn't.
And there was the time my son came home to the stench of cat pee. The entire first floor reeked of it. In this case, Adam "ran out of upholstery cleaner" and there was still a large dark spot on the couch where he'd given it a half-assed scrubbing. It seems fairly obvious that even without a can of 3M, one can do a lot to alleviate the odor of cat pee in a modest-sized house. My son opened all the windows to air out the place. Then, my husband removed the seat covers for a deeper cleaning. If I were there, I'd have made Adam do it--but I think my husband was too upset to deal with him.
Yet the worst thing--for everyone involved--is that Adam is not seriously looking for work. A while ago, he was supposed to have dropped off some resumes at various local businesses. But he didn't do it because he "didn't have any printed out". Technically, it was true. It's also true that Adam saw my husband buy a new ink cartridge and print some other papers, using the printer to which everyone has access, the day before.
Adam was shown some rental listings. Then he proffered various reasons for not liking them. He doesn't seem to understand that he is not really in a position to be picky. (And these were small, affordable apartments, not roach-infested flophouses or anything like that.)
Adam's been living with us for about a month and a half, ever since the big falling-out with his family. But that's not when his problems started. I don't know when they did, but it's clear that his emotional and social problems, and his immaturity, have deep roots. At the same time, I think his current situation can be attributed to inherent laziness as well as his personal problems.
We've tried to motivate him to look into other options. We've given him a 'move-out-by' date. But in the end, there's only so much we can do to help him; he has to take steps to help himself. Will he be out of our house, with a job or at least a place to stay? I'm cautiously optimistic. (Stay tuned.)
Oh, and he's almost 40 years old.
No, he's not our son--our son is in grade 4, and pointedly does not spend all day watching TV, though he is rather attached to his Nintendo DS. This parasite--let's call him Adam--is a distant friend of the family. And by distant I mean that he's really my husband's friend, not our friend.
Adam arrived on our doorstep with his few belongings and his cat. (Okay, to be precise--he has no car, so my husband picked him up.) He had a condo, but he lost his job and could no longer afford the monthly payments. He then moved back in with his parents. Unfortunately, his relationship with his family is a fractious one, and he had a particularly nasty blow-out with family. As a result, Adam was metaphorically kicked to the curb.
Adam's always had personal issues. They became more apparent in the past few years, when his presence in my husband's loosely defined group of friends and acquaintances became more and more scarce. I think the relative 'success' of his peers depressed him. (By 'success' I don't mean millionaires with trophy wives, perfect kids, and nice cars; just normal, everyday adult guy stuff.) Every get-together meant that he'd be faced with all that normalcy. And there he'd be, in his 30s, broke, precariously employed, single, and painfully self-conscious.
Maybe we all know someone like Adam. He doesn't quite fit in, and not by choice. You watch him and your other friends and can see few interests, personality traits, or anything else that might arouse an affinity between them. You wonder, how did he become friends with them?
But I think I know what happened in Adam's case. When they became friends over a decade ago, my husband and Adam had more in common. And while my husband evolved--as is natural--Adam stayed the same.
Despite some trepidation on the subject, we did not want to see Adam living on the street. We gave him our guest room, with the understanding that it would be a temporary arrangement while he pulled himself together.
A few days after Adam moved in, I offered to look at his resume. Let's just say that it would not have looked out of place printed on a dot-matrix printer. Spelling/grammar mistakes were also egregious. Later, Adam admitted that he hadn't bothered updating it, aside from adding subsequent employment history, since 1999.
The state of his resume ought to have told me something about Adam, which I've only just started to see.
We told Adam that this was no free ride. We had to buy more food for him and his cat, and also provide him with bus fare in case he needed to go out. In return, we expected him to take care of some household chores like vacuuming and mowing the lawn. In other words, he had to contribute to the household in some manner, since his presence would contribute to bills but not to household income. Most importantly, he would have to make a concerted effort to find work and a place to live. The approach might seem unduly harsh, but it's what my husband and I agreed would work best in this case. (He says it's tough love. I call it pragmatism.)
It didn't take long, however, for Adam to lapse into some worrisome, and irritating, habits.
One day my husband came home to a puddle of cat pee on the carpet. Adam had left it alone because he "didn't know where the carpet cleaner" was. (A cursory look in some cupboards would have enlightened him.) Had he had any intention of cleaning it up, he should have texted, emailed, or called us about the carpet cleaner. But he didn't.
And there was the time my son came home to the stench of cat pee. The entire first floor reeked of it. In this case, Adam "ran out of upholstery cleaner" and there was still a large dark spot on the couch where he'd given it a half-assed scrubbing. It seems fairly obvious that even without a can of 3M, one can do a lot to alleviate the odor of cat pee in a modest-sized house. My son opened all the windows to air out the place. Then, my husband removed the seat covers for a deeper cleaning. If I were there, I'd have made Adam do it--but I think my husband was too upset to deal with him.
Yet the worst thing--for everyone involved--is that Adam is not seriously looking for work. A while ago, he was supposed to have dropped off some resumes at various local businesses. But he didn't do it because he "didn't have any printed out". Technically, it was true. It's also true that Adam saw my husband buy a new ink cartridge and print some other papers, using the printer to which everyone has access, the day before.
Adam was shown some rental listings. Then he proffered various reasons for not liking them. He doesn't seem to understand that he is not really in a position to be picky. (And these were small, affordable apartments, not roach-infested flophouses or anything like that.)
Adam's been living with us for about a month and a half, ever since the big falling-out with his family. But that's not when his problems started. I don't know when they did, but it's clear that his emotional and social problems, and his immaturity, have deep roots. At the same time, I think his current situation can be attributed to inherent laziness as well as his personal problems.
We've tried to motivate him to look into other options. We've given him a 'move-out-by' date. But in the end, there's only so much we can do to help him; he has to take steps to help himself. Will he be out of our house, with a job or at least a place to stay? I'm cautiously optimistic. (Stay tuned.)
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Comment by similar situation
Comment by Irene
Grammar Matters
Interrobang
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Why cant they understand if everyone else works and they are home all day its their DUTY to do the house? And if they have animals, clean up after them!
I gave mine til the first of November cos we have a bub on the way. Tick Tock....
Comment by Irene
Grammar Matters
Interrobang
We have given Adam the same date--November 1st. Let's hope they are out of our homes without a hitch,.
And congrats on the baby!