Griping...

Here we go again. Domestic notes from Cali Colombia. Some time ago I bought two bicycles for my wife and myself. My wife's is a wide handled model with a basket in front and mine is typical mountain bike style. We've used them very little and are moving soon to a place where we can't use them at all. My wife said she thought she'd store hers at her mother's house so that she can use it if she wants (she won't) and mentioned that her 17 year old nephew is looking to buy one to ride to work and would I sell him mine. I paid about $160.000 pesos for each and said yes he can have mine for $100.000. She gave me a long look which was supposed to give me the opportunity to retract my words and finally said "a hundred?" , "yes" I said and her expression changed to the well known pout following which she retreated to the bedroom to "rest". I know what the deal is. I'm supposed to give my bike away to the bugger for twenty-five or something. This is the same bugger who is in welding school and said long ago he would weld me up a grill out of some welding rods to fit a smoker I made and of course never has. I finally made it my self when I returned to the states where I have a welder. I also had to get some brackets welded up the other day for guttering on our new house here. Nobody said a word about the bugger. Had to pay a local welder to do it. And I'm supposed to give him my bike. This discussion actually came about when we were talking about some (expensive) metal roofing sheathing from the new place that I've already agreed to give her sister, the mother of the bugger. I really get fed up with the the idea that her family is some non-profit organization to which I'm supposed to be the big doner.