The packing has begun in earnest. Translation: All the clothes on the floor of Mary Morgan’s and Andrew’s rooms are getting scooped up and put in boxes. Notice I said scooped up, not folded. Why go through an unnecessary step? Don’t the clothes get wrinkled when you wear them, anyway?
So the floors of the rooms no longer require a GPS system to locate anything….but there is still work to do. Make that, the mom thinks that there is still work left to do. No fewer than 6 cereal bowls are upstairs, containing the shells of roasted peanuts from some long forgotten Royal’s game, a bowl of Froot Loops….and oh, yes. Better put some ant bait up there while we’re at it.
You see where this is going, right? The real work of cleaning, as in Pledging the furniture, making the bed, making the room look nice enough that you wouldwant to come back to visit, is left to me. Mary Morgan leaves Sunday. She hauled five boxes to the UPS store today to mail to her new apartment. But the room. A mess. She insists, while gesturing with her arm as in a frantic Vanna White posture, “What?? It’s clean. I put all the stuff in boxes! What are you talking about? This will take me five minutes to straighten up….” as she wisks past me, with that smile, shampoo and a towel in hand, heading for the shower.
Andrew? The boy version. Stuff going to college piled all over the dining room table and floor. Some of it in boxes. Other stuff not. I am thinking a fourth floor dorm room…and how can we consolidate to maximize efficiency moving the stuff from car trunk to dorm dresser. I make a suggestion or two (okay, three) and he just keeps saying, “I know, mom. I’m not done yet. I am still bringing stuff down….”
The truth is, that as each kiddo walks out the kitchen door, I will be a bundle of tears….tears of pride first, then sadness. Sending an 18 and 20 year old to Denver and Lincoln, Nebraska, knowing that they can handle the challenges of getting along with a roommate, finding their classes, doing their homework, cooking a meal, brushing their teeth, not losing their room/car key, setting their alarm clocks and getting themselves out of bed. A lifetime of cumulative teaching…….
The porch light is always on…..