The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself DEEPLY DISTURBED by the phrase "my husband did it in the 90s" being treated as ANY form of electrical credential. Reginald once dated a woman whose ex-husband "fixed" her garbage disposal and she is STILL finding screws in her soup to this day, so The Court understands the gravitational pull of spousal optimism, but "updated electrical" does not mean "ran one wire to the kitchen so he could plug in a bread maker." You asked the right question and accepted the wrong answer, counsel, and now twenty-two thousand dollars has evaporated into the void alongside this man's unshakeable belief that he is basically a licensed electrician. The buyer walked, the house sat, and somewhere in that home a junction box held together by hubris and electrical tape awaits its moment. The Court notes that you RELISTED WITH CORRECTED DISCLOSURE, which is the bare minimum of human decency, but Reginald is not in the business of handing out gold stars for NOT committing fraud twice. This Court hereby orders you to never again accept "my husband did it" as documentation unless that husband can produce a permit, a license, or at minimum a basic understanding of what century the wiring in his walls is from. Case dismissed, The Court needs to go call his own electrician about something unrelated.