most of life's problems are too complicated

This is a relatively recent one, from my cousin's high school graduation party in May. I should say the quote is recent, but the reference is quite old.

My uncle had recently had his home absolutely trashed by a derelict kid he and my aunt had foolishly taken under their wing. He was describing the mayhem that greeted them on their return from a weekend trip. This sounds like a hell of a party the kid threw at their house: semen in all the sheets, smell of urine everywhere, brand new (expensive) grill overrun with ash and grease. It sounded like the kid had made zero effort to clean up afterwards.

My uncle mentioned all the ruination wrought on his possessions, but what he focused on was the betrayal and insecurity this aroused in him. Not to mention the anger. In my uncle's own words he was about two minutes from going to prison for a very long time when he first got his hands on this kid.

My dad brought up his similar experience when our house got robbed by our fat neighbor while we were camping on vacation one year. He, too, felt that the loss of possessions was secondary to the emotions effected by the robbery, which he likened unto non-consensual receptive anal intercourse.