The Taxman Cometh and the Husband Tries to Taketh Away

I paid my property taxes today. $1840.

Those big checks are so hard to write. Compared to what many have to pay, it’s pretty reasonable – and $100 less than last year. Yay us!

BUT. Since we so much want to be out of here , every mortgage payment, every tax payment, every insurance payment seems more like rent – money down the toilet. I understand that it’s not, and that we continue to reduce our principal with every payment we make, but with falling property values it just feels … not nearly as fun as paying mortgage, taxes and insurance on a new house.

Then, tonight, my husband came home after a bike ride and asked me how long I’d owned the house before we married. I bought it the year before. He then informed me, with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face, that he’d now put more money into it than I had (I’d stopped working shortly after our son was born). So now it was his house.

Not so fast, bub. I put 20% cash down. He hasn’t put more money into it yet, and won’t for quite awhile. Heh.

Besides, it’s in my name alone. Though my state is a community property state, it won’t matter if I bop him on the head.

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