But wait. Plot twist. He’s not just renovating. He’s moving in. For 30 years.
Imagine inheriting a brother and sister inherit a large family house that’s basically a haunted relic with a leaky roof, walls full of “character cracks”, and plumbing that only works when it’s feeling cute.
This house has carried the family for decades, and now it’s tired.
Still, the siblings live there because they must. It’s their lifeline.
Then, out of nowhere, a familiar contractor returns.
He’s the same guy who helped build the house years ago.
He walks in, shakes his head dramatically, and says, “This place needs serious work.”
He offers to renovate everything, new roof, stronger walls, modern plumbing, maybe even a fancy chandelier or two.
Hallelujah, right?
Suddenly, the house might actually work again.
Naturally, the siblings are relieved.
But wait. Plot twist. He’s not just renovating. He’s moving in. For 30 years.
He decides the rooms, the bills, and the money flow.
The two siblings? They get to stay… as long as they don’t expect the keys anytime soon.
Yes, the house is now safe, stylish, and suddenly Instagram-worthy.
But and here’s where the adult conversation should start, the contractor’s added clause.
He won’t just renovate the house.
He’ll live in it and run it for 30 years. He’ll decide which rooms are used first, who pays what, and how the house earns money. The siblings can stay, of course, but the keys?
Those won’t fully return to them until three decades later.
Now pause.
Thirty years is not a short house visit. That’s not “I’ll stay until the paint dries.”
That’s “I’m raising my children here.”
So is this a good deal? Yes. And also… hmm.
Yes, because the siblings couldn’t afford the renovation on their own. The house becomes safer and more functional, and suddenly people want to visit again. There’s movement. There’s income. There are jobs for the neighbours who help with the renovation.
The house stops being an embarrassment and starts being useful again.
But here’s the uncomfortable part we don’t like to say out loud...will the siblings actually keep an eye on the house?
Let’s be honest, watching a contractor for 30 years requires discipline, knowledge, and backbone.
It means checking the plumbing even when it seems to work. Reading the fine print.
Asking comfortable and uncomfortable questions. Not falling asleep just because the lights are back on.
And history tells us something else...you know! The two siblings... if you don’t learn how the house runs while someone else is managing it, you’ll struggle the moment they leave.
A shiny house without skills is still a problem waiting to happen.
The real risk isn’t the contractor. It’s complacency.
Big projects are like shared family homes. They demand vigilance, not vibes.
Gratitude, not blind trust. Planning not just for today, but for the day the guest packs up and hands back the keys.
Because when the 30 years end, there will be no one else to blame if the roof leaks again.
After all, this is our house. We share it. We benefit from it. And one day, it will be fully ours again.
The question is:... will we be ready to run it or will we be looking for the next contractor?
This is our house. We share it. We benefit from it. And one day, it will be fully ours again.
When that day comes, will we be ready to run it or will we be hunting for the next contractor who promises to do it all while we sip wine and watch?
