Or... "Two Down, Two To Go..."
#91 is moving out. This weekend! It is real, I even saw it. A key! That isn't to my front door. A key that opens a different door. A door that opens to a different home. A home where I don't live. I finally have my washer and dryer back. I have my Diet Cokes all to myself. If I run out of bleach or laundry detergent... it's because I used them! I will have a parking spot in my driveway. Every day! OMG, when we come home late and go to the refrigerator to heat up leftovers for dinner... There. Will. Be. Leftovers. In the fridge to heat up! No more cursing the emergency mac & cheese! Oh, and when I buy tuna, I'll actually get to use it. There will be a normal number of towels in the bathroom, two! One for each remaining child. OMG, the kids can now keep their towels in the bathroom. Why? They couldn't before because #91 required three towels for himself (which took up all the towel rack space). I can't explain why he needed three towels to take a shower, it's not like he alternated them, he actually used all three after each shower. I won't have to stress out when I go into the garage and see freshly laundered t-shirts hanging all over (on the backs of chairs, my treadmill, the bicycles, the kids' hockey net) for days and days until I can't stand it any longer and gather them all up in a pile and put them on his bed. If there are dishes in the sink or lying around, it will be because I used them. I'll never have to worry again about how many eggs I have left in the carton. I could go on... but I won't.
You, internet, who take these little things for granted, have no idea the freedom I feel right now.
(((Sigh))), I guess here is the part where I should get all nostalgic and remember all the good times and what #91 means to me and what I will miss not having him live under my roof. Well, okay. I love my (step) son. I have raised him as my own since the age of 10. But? I just don't feel that at the age of 24 I (we) am doing him any favors by having him live here anymore. I feel like he is 3 or 4 years behind the learning curve on living on his own, budgeting his money, paying rent, food and utilities. He has always been a late bloomer so maybe logistically this makes perfect sense. He has been in and out of community college since his graduation from high school and nothing has seemed to take with him. He has a truly altruistic job working with special needs kids and he is really good at it. However, sometimes I just get the feeling he thought he would be living with us forever.
For example, the following is a conversation between him and hubby on Father's Day:
#91: "...yeah, but you know in Mexico (hubby is from Mexico and #91 was born and raised there until he was 9) you stay at home until you're like 30 or 35."
Me: wincing at the anticipated verbal onslaught Hubby is about to bring...
Hubby: "Yeah, but your whole paycheck goes to your parents, you are available 24/7 to whatever is needed around the house. If something needs to be fixed or someone needs a ride you are there to take care of it. You don't stay out all night, sleep all day and you certainly don't have your own room. Where does your paycheck go son?"
#91: "Umm. Nevermind."
Hubby: "Are you going to wash my car for Father's Day?"
#91: "Uh, I have to go somewhere right now. Can I do it later?"
So? He has his key. He is moving to his new place this weekend. And? We all start on this new phase of our lives. In my case, with all the Diet Coke I can drink, 24/7 laundry priveleges, and my own parking space for the next 5 years until Woody starts driving, doing his own laundry and, God forbid, starts drinking Diet Coke.
Yes, life is good...