It was January 1999 and I was thinking about moving out of my parent's home. I knew that I did not want to live in an apartment, nor did I want to rent. My only other choice was to buy a house. I had been at my job for over two years, and thought that I would be there for more years to come. I had spoken with my parents about home ownership and they were excited for me, although I think it was the fact I was moving out that entertained them the most. I began thinking about where I wanted to live. Did I want to live in Derby or Wichita, and if in Wichita, which part of town?
             I looked in both Derby and in Wichita. I decided that Derby was too expensive. I began talking with co-workers on recommendations for a good real estate agent. I received the name and number of one and called her right away. She suggested that since I had already decided to live in Wichita to go ahead and look at houses I thought I might like. If I had found some that I liked and was interested in seeing I was to give her a call and she would schedule a tour. That sounded easy, so on with the search I go.
             I went to several open houses and found nothing I liked or could afford. Then one day my mom suggests this one she saw in the paper that was having an open house. I was reluctant at first, but decided to go anyways. When I walked in the front door I fell in love with the house. It was cute and charming. It had enough room for me and a big back yard for my dogs. Although it would need my touch on a few things, I could see myself living there. I immediately called my agent when I got home and told her about the house. She got the information for me and proceeded to get the paper needed to put a contract on the house.
             My parents told me not go full price on the house, and suggested a price for me to give.
             I originally gave a price of ten thousand less than their asking price. They could only say no. Why not start low and work ...