Buying our first home in my 20s, I asked my Dad to look it over. He was a craftsman, carpenter by trade. After a scrutinizing look, he said, “Looks sound to me. You know, it doesn’t have a bathroom on the main floor.” Which I hadn’t thought was significant. He continued, “As for the price, you’ll have to decide that for yourself. You are paying more than triple what I paid for our house on Upton.” (Bought in the early 1950s.)
I always respected Dad for the wise way he handled that “Parent inspection.” Thanks Dad.
