Making decisions by committee
Jointly owning property means committee decisions take the day if everybody is to be happy.
That's how it is with the farm and farmhouse I own jointly with my sister, Pat.
Regina and I narrowed our selection for bathroom floor tile to white or a sand one that had hints of color in the surface. We decided that Pat could decide between the two because getting everybody together to shop was difficult.
On renovation day Regina went off to Birmingham with our daughter Mary Grace and our grandchildren Wright and Emma Grace to Anna Kramer's 4th birthday party. Her mom is the former Mary Horton of Decatur.
Pat went to Camp Sumatonga to a Walk to Emmaus meeting, so that left her husband Don, their son Brian, and our son-in-law Kirk to make the pick.
Stop reading here. You know the outcome. You probably could write the ending.
Regina and I agonized over tiles for hours after I paid 98 cents each for samples to take to the farm and put on the floor.
We'd put down two of the same style and color because two gave a better perspective than one. We'd take them up, put down two more and repeat the process.
"I hope Pat picks this one," she said, pointing to the sand. That was before she knew Pat wouldn't be there to make the final decision.
That left it to us guys.
I plopped the white tiles down side by side, then put the sand ones down by them.
Presto, in less time than it takes to peal the backing off a stick-on tile and slap it down on the floor, we had decided on white. There was no ambivalence, no changing places for a better perspective. The decision was white, made in 10 seconds.
Don and I bought white.
Eventually, Regina, Mary Grace and the children arrived. They preferred the sand to the white. Soon Pat showed up. She, too, preferred the sand.
It's not every day that the guys win one when it comes to interior decorating.