Knock Knock...

It happened again.
Early this morning there was a knock at the door and I just assumed it was the neighbor Erik letting me know he brought the garbage cans in.
Wrong.
It was John.
WTH.
What is going on here?
This poor old sick friend of my Grampy's who's cousin wife left him for some guy she hooked up with on facebook has chosen my shoulder on which to cry and during the early hours of the morning I might add.
I was right in the middle of getting Wyatt fed and washed and out the door for school and here comes Old John limping in the door.
Don't get me wrong, I am NOT an unsympathetic person.
Far from it.
I feel very bad for this man, but aside from listening to him
(which I would prefer doing sometime after 9:00AM)
I'm not sure what I can do.
I get the feeling he is wanting to move in with us because his soon to be ex cousin wife is trying to sell the house and make a little cash before the bank takes it over and his stepdaughter niece and her lover are trying to conceive a child together so John is feeling a little like the third wheel at their place right now.
I mean really, an old man is the last thing I need. I already have four dogs and a kid in the house, can you imagine me being able to find ANY quiet time during the day to watch my stories if I had a senior citizen in the house too?
The place would smell like dirty socks and Ben Gay in no time, which I guess is better than wet dog and dead sheep, but still...
I feel like I should be doing whatever I can to help this man, but I don't want to.
Does that make me a bad person?