Vacancy at Casa de Hawken

Shortly after Jake moved away to college, and I was living on the east coast, The Beast and Hal had to come to terms with being empty nesters.

Throughout our childhood, they they had spoken at great length about how much they were looking forward to having an empty home without the trials and travails of raising both of us.

Everytime we'd have a bleach fight, invent games like "Steak Knife Tag," knock a door off its hinges, misuse Roman Candles, or incur the petty wrath of school administrators, The Beast and Hal would embark on the same well-rehearsed rant about how much they were looking forward to having some peace.

Once we were both gone, they lost their minds.

Apparently, over time, they had used the intense, unpleasant feelings associated with raising us as benchmarks to measure the passage of time.

No sooner were we gone than they began offering a spare room in the basement to a series of shady, miserable young adults who were trying to get back on their feet.

I couldn't have been more shocked.

If Jake or I had ever left a freezer door open over the weekend or re-spilled Nair on the hood of the Tahoe we were suddenly written out of the will, but a revolving door of 20-somethings with bad credit and GEDs were suddenly invited carte blanche into a well-furnished room.

In an attempt to keep a bad situation from becoming disastrous, I tried to help The Beast be a little more selective about who she let into the basement, but helping either parent salvage their dignity was like trying to desalinate the ocean or legitimize boxing.

I thought the best place to start would be the long list of e-mails from would-be housemates.

Despite passionate protests from Hal and The Beast, we quickly eliminated three people from the running.

The first e-mail read, "I am very clean, I can cook, and I promise to never get drunk and puke in the oven."

The second was similar: "I do not own a pet, I am applying for jobs, I can hear what vegetables are thinking."

Number three: "I currently have $45,631 in credit card debt, so I need a place to lay low for a while. Are either of you immune to scabies?"

No sooner had my visit ended than there were new visitors in the basement.

Hal and The Beast claim they're happy to help, but I know for a fact they weren't to excited about having to replace their oven.