From the dawn of this project, I have been given the impression that building inspectors are the enemy. The bain of our existence; The means to our undoing; The ogre waiting under the bridge that will never let us pass. And, if nothing else, they are evokers of less-than-godly thoughts.
Yesterday morning, after having taken a half-day off work, Aidan pulled on his coveralls and excitedly headed out to meet our inspector. Hours passed--five or so. And then Aidan came home again. He looked deflated. Really deflated. The inspector had never showed.
I think the most grating aspect of inspector/homebuilder relations is the imbalance of power. It is ALL in the other court. We, like puppies on our backs, must play submission. Muzzle our initial responses and stiffle any sharp-edged objections. If not? What if Aidan called Mister Inspector and told him precisely what he thought of being stood up? Let's just say that an experienced and newly affronted inspector has the ability to sniff out any number of code infractions. He could take issue with just about anything. The list could get quite long. And quite expensive. And we might grow old and gray and bitter. And bitter is a bad thing to be . . .
Instead, I think that I will take the advice of a friend: "Just make sure you always have cookies baking on inspection day . . . "
I'm just a puppy on my back.
