Posted by Natasha Red on March 14, 2025
You know those moments in life when you’re absolutely certain you’ve made a terrible, possibly financially catastrophic decision? Last month, I had one of those moments standing in the basement of what was supposed to be our dream home, watching water seep through the foundation while our real estate agent awkwardly checked her phone.
Let me back up. After seven years in our current house—the one where we brought Lily home from the hospital, where Jake learned to ride a bike in the driveway, and where Emma has claimed the corner bedroom as her “teenage sanctuary”—Mark and I decided we needed more space. Three growing kids, two work-from-home parents (at least part-time), and one increasingly irritable cat meant we were bursting at the seams.
When we found the two-story colonial with the big backyard and the finished basement (hello, potential home office!), we fell hard. Like, “writing an offer $15K over asking price” hard. The kind of hard where you’re already mentally arranging furniture and planning where to hang family photos.
“I’ve Seen Homeowners Make Expensive Mistakes That Could’ve Been Prevented”
This is where I should have remembered what Geremey Engle, a home inspector from Winchester, VA, once said in an article I bookmarked years ago: “The biggest mistake I see homeowners make is falling in love with a property and then overlooking critical issues because they’re already emotionally invested. I’ve seen homeowners make expensive mistakes that could’ve been prevented with proper inspection and due diligence.”
Did I heed this sage wisdom? Of course not! I’m Natasha, the woman who once decided she could cut her own bangs at 11 PM after three glasses of wine. Rational decision-making isn’t always my strong suit.
Mark and I were so confident in the house’s condition (it looked perfect! the owners seemed so nice!) that we considered waiving the inspection to make our offer more competitive. Thankfully, our real estate agent—who deserves a fruit basket or possibly a small island named after her—insisted we keep the inspection contingency.
The Inspection Day from Hell
Fast forward to inspection day. I arrived at the house expecting a quick formality. I’d even brought paint samples to hold up against the walls while the inspector did his thing. But two hours in, I knew something was wrong. The inspector had been in the basement for an unusually long time, and I could hear what sounded like camera clicks and concerned muttering.
When I finally ventured down, I found him taking multiple photos of a section of the foundation wall that was distinctly darker than the rest. As if on cue, a small bead of water emerged from a nearly invisible crack and began its slow journey down the concrete.
“Has it rained recently?” he asked, knowing full well it had been bone dry for weeks.
That was just the beginning. Over the next hour, he discovered:
- A roof that had “maybe 2-3 years left, and that’s being generous”
- Electrical wiring that he described as “creative and terrifying”
- Evidence of a previous termite infestation that had been painted over
- HVAC equipment that was approximately 100 years old (slight exaggeration, but only slight)
- And the coup de grâce: signs of black mold behind the recently renovated kitchen
Remember those beautiful kitchen photos that made me swoon? Turns out they were the equivalent of putting lipstick on a toxic, potentially health-hazardous pig.
The Family Meeting
That night, we had what I call a “family summit.” Mark and I sat down with the kids to discuss our options. The repair estimates were coming in at nearly $80,000—money we definitely didn’t have just lying around after making a down payment.
“But I already told Mackenzie which bedroom would be mine,” Emma protested, somehow making this global catastrophe all about her social standing.
“I don’t want mold in my lungs,” Jake countered, suddenly an expert in respiratory health.
Lily, bless her heart, just wanted to know if the new house had good hiding spots for her collection of partially chewed erasers.
Mark, ever the pragmatist, laid out our options: walk away and keep looking, or negotiate with the sellers for significant repairs or price reduction.
The Unexpected Silver Lining
This is where things get interesting—and where I learned something about our family that I might never have discovered if everything had gone smoothly.
We decided to involve the kids in the decision-making process. Not just in a “we’re pretending to listen to you but will do whatever we want” way, but genuinely. We explained the financial implications, the renovation disruption, and the uncertainty. We talked about the difference between cosmetic issues and structural problems, using terms they could understand.
And you know what? They asked amazing questions. Emma wanted to know if we could prioritize repairs based on safety rather than appearance (yes, my appearance-obsessed teenager said this). Jake suggested we get multiple quotes from different contractors. Lily, in her four-year-old wisdom, asked if we could just fix the parts of the house we use the most and leave the rest for later.
In that moment, gathered around our kitchen table with pizza and spreadsheets, I realized we weren’t just teaching our kids about home buying—we were showing them how to handle disappointment, make tough decisions, and problem-solve as a team.
What We Decided
After much deliberation (and several more inspections with specialists), we ended up walking away from the house. The sellers were unwilling to address the major issues, and frankly, the more we learned, the more concerned we became about what else might be lurking behind those freshly painted walls.
Was it disappointing? Absolutely. The kids had already measured their rooms and picked out paint colors. Mark had identified the perfect spot for his grill on the back deck. I’d created an entire Pinterest board dedicated to decorating a house we would never own.
But here’s what Geremey Engle said that really stuck with me: “A home inspection isn’t about finding reasons to walk away from a house you love. It’s about making an informed decision about possibly the largest investment of your life. Sometimes walking away is the best decision you can make for your family’s future.”
He was right. Walking away wasn’t a failure—it was a bullet dodged.
The Lessons We’re Taking Forward
As we restart our house hunt (with slightly more realistic expectations), here’s what we’ve learned:
- Emotional investment before inspection is dangerous. I now refuse to mentally arrange furniture until all inspections are complete.
- Kids understand more than we give them credit for. Involving them in big family decisions (in age-appropriate ways) helps them develop critical thinking skills and gives them a sense of control during changes.
- What looks perfect on the surface often isn’t. This applies to houses, social media posts, and that mom at school pickup who seems to have it all together. (Trust me, she doesn’t.)
- Sometimes the best decisions feel like disappointments in the moment. Walking away from that house felt like giving up on a dream, but we now realize it was protecting a bigger dream—financial stability and a truly safe home for our family.
- Always, ALWAYS get a thorough home inspection. This isn’t negotiable, no matter how competitive the market or how perfect the house seems.
We’re still living in our too-small house with our increasingly irritable cat. Emma still complains about sharing a bathroom with her siblings. Jake’s basketball hoop is still too close to the living room window (a fact I’m reminded of weekly). And Lily’s toys continue to multiply like rabbits in every corner.
But we’re together, we’re safe, and we’re not dealing with toxic mold or “creative and terrifying” electrical work. Sometimes that’s victory enough.
As we continue our house hunt with wiser eyes and a more cautious approach, I keep returning to Geremey Engle’s wisdom: “Your dream home shouldn’t keep you up at night with worry. When you find the right house, you’ll sleep soundly knowing you’ve made a sound decision.”
Here’s to future sound sleep—and to house inspectors who save us from ourselves.
Have you ever walked away from something you thought you wanted, only to realize it was the right decision? Share your stories of bullet-dodging in the comments below!
