JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I'm getting started on my Spring cleaning, and some of you may be saying, "Isn't this a little late for for that, Julia?" Others of you with low and snarky minds may be saying, "What, Spring cleaning 2019?" But friends, I honestly have a good reason to drag my feather duster this year - the Maine Millennial is moving out. Into her very own, title-and-mortgage house!
As some of you may recall, she moved back in with me in December 2019, after breaking up with the Very Tall Boyfriend. Then stuff happened. You may have read about it in the news. Two and a half years later, she has a new job, a new guy (the Very Redheaded Boyfriend) and finally, a home of her own. (More about this Saturday.)
Her very small bedroom, which looked like a ship container stuffed with used first world clothing headed for the tropics? Will be emptied.
Her Ebay side hustle (she's a millennial, of course she has a side hustle) which has required me to turn over 75% of my family room to storing wares, empty boxes, and packing material? Will be relocated.
Her cat, who stopped using the downstairs litter box and began PEEING IN MY BEDROOM until I got it a new litter box all of its own (which I also empty every other day, because, again, bedroom)? Will be in a new bedroom. Which has wall to wall carpeting. Heh heh heh heh heh.
Her dog, who barks at the slightest pretext and follows me everywhere I go, and whom I have been caring for five to seven days a week for the past eighteen months? Will be trying out a new day care. The Maine Millennial's new house is an hour and a quarter away from me, way too far to drop the dog off. It's sad. So very sad. I am sad. Do you believe me?
And of course, all the little things that get dropped, left, crumpled and misplaced will cease to exist.
It's not that I regret having the Maine Millennial here, or that I won't miss her. She could have moved out after finished grad school, but that was when Ross started to get sick, and her presence (and car) was a godsend. When the pandemic shut us all up our bubbles, she (and Youngest and Guest Son) kept me busy and moderately sane. And most importantly, having her spend the bulk of her twenties at home, without charging rent or expenses, enabled her to save up enough money for a twenty per cent down payment, with enough cash left over to buy a new queen bed and a sectional sofa. That was a great gift to be able to give her.
But now, baby, this house is mine, all mine! I'm going to be dusting. And sweeping. And vacuuming. And mopping. Since I didn't really do anything with it when she went to college, there are parts of her bedroom that haven't been touched since it became hers in 2004. The family room will be getting a deep cleaning for the first time in years, and I'm going to be tossing out SO much stuff I don't need or want anymore. Just losing two pets out of six will lower the animal-hair-everywhere quotient by a third!
How about you, dear readers? Have you ever said, "Yee-haw!" when getting rid of the last child? Did you roll up your sleeves to scrape Pokemon stickers off the wall? And did they ever come back? (No, don't tell me that last. I don't want to know.)
