A Letter to Mama Bear

Dear Mama Bear,

I love meeting parents who care so deeply about their children. As a society, it should be expected that all parents offer unconditional love to their offspring. And you, Suzie, have transcended this to an art form. However, I need to ask you to back off. There are many reasons. Please, allow me to list a few of them:

1. Your son is 53 years old. He is my client. You aren't. It is obvious he has some basic adulting skills. Let him bloom. I get it. I have a father who thinks I am still 11. But even he was wise enough to step back when I purchased real estate.

2. I recognize you were some higher-up mortgage badass at some random bank and took "retirement" (cough-cough) in 2006 the way a lot of other mortgage people took retirement or found other careers when the housing market tanked and it turned out lending practices at the time were questionable. It isn't 2006. The only similarities between lending in 2006 and 2019 is the client gets money at the end. The entire process and the laws surrounding them are very different. You honestly don't know what you are talking about. And you need to stop telling your son you are the foremost expert on mortgages. And while we are on the subject, for the love of all that is holy, stop telling your son's loan officer you are the foremost expert.

3. I am not going to tell you the ins and outs of this transaction. I am not going to keep you updated. Why? YOU AREN'T MY CLIENT. And at this point, I am not sure I even like you. By the way, just like you, I too have done business in the South. It will freeze over in Phoenix on some random August before I address you as "Mrs."--the way you are demanding--while you call me by my first name. Bless your heart.

4. I would get a lot more done, and not have to duplicate my efforts--as this Thursday demonstrated--if you would just stop calling me. Did I mention you aren't my client? You don't even live in this state! You are three steps behind what is currently going on. If you truly love your son and want to help him get this home, stop giving him advice that was relevant in 1999. You are confusing the guy. He believes you and not those of us he has hired to work in his best interests.

5. Next time you contact me, telling me to stop what I am doing immediately, drive across town and pick up some document or cashier's check for your son, I will block your number. Business is not done via carrier pigeons in this day and age. Other people who have jobs buy homes and get these things taken care of. I am his real estate agent, not his babysitter. We have couriers and electronic devices these days to handle this. Besides, real estate transactions are not conducted the same way here that they are in your state. What you asked me to do has nothing to do with my part of the sale and would have put me in legal danger. Mind your own damn business.

6. I will not give him tax advice. I will not advise him how to take title. I will not tell you if the property should be put into a trust. I will advise you both to talk with people who have more knowledge in this realm than I do. Stop asking me questions outside the scope of my license. You are just doing it on purpose on this point. We both know it.

7. Which brings me to this point, if you feel so strongly your son's property should be put under your umbrella policy, in the words of Jean-Luc Picard, "Make it so." Or, here's an idea, your son is old enough to have his own umbrella policy. Frankly, all adults should have one. They cost about $400. Pay for his as a house-warming gift. And please, don't use five-syllable words to describe to me what an umbrella policy is. The concept isn't that complicated, even if you use big words. Guess what?! I have had one for 16 years. Your son can get one if he so chooses (or if you choose for him).

I need to point out, we are only two days into your son's sale. I am already sick of you. Please leave me alone. Leave the loan officer alone. Do not call the title officer or I will personally fly to your state and find a way to make your life miserable. And I kindly ask, stop advising your son on things that aren't relevant. It confuses him. It confuses me.

We are all on the same side. We want what is best for your son. Please take a breather. Your son has got this. And if all goes well, he will even have a guest room for you when you decide you need to come visit to reoranize his sock drawer.

Sincerely,

Me.