Move the sky, the earth and a girl at the university | Open

Many parents my age are currently suffering from Empty Nest Syndrome / Euphoria as they send their kids to college in the hope that one day their ‘babies’ will graduate and come home to pick up all of them. the garbage they left piled up under their beds.

To my wife and I, this condition is more like a multiple nest disorder – since we still have two children at home after moving our oldest and dearest daughter to a lavish four bedroom college townhouse adorned with all the amenities. latest overpriced items from Urban Outfitters.

The ordeal of our daughter’s move to her new “cradle” actually began last spring, when she began storing unknown goods in massive shipping boxes specially designed to give me a hernia.

Then came moving day, when we packed enough clothes, linens, electronics, decorative string lights, salt lamps, cosmetics and a few uncomfortable humans into our vehicles to make another bad restart. of “The Beverly Hillbillies”. We were only able to recover minimal freshness from the chassis of our beleaguered 2013 Ford Expedition sitting so close to the ground that I felt compelled to repeat the song “Lowrider” throughout the 3.5 hour trip.

When we got to the townhouse, I was actually excited to finally use the hand truck my dad had given me out of pity in my early teens. Thank goodness my daughter’s room is only one flight of incredibly narrow stairs!

After we had transported all the cargo upstairs and said a short prayer asking for a new spine, my wife and daughter began to organize the clothes while I was tasked with putting things together. and hang other objects on the walls.

One of my biggest fears has always been the combination of an Allen key and the phrase “some assembly required”. But after only three attempts, I managed to build a three tier shoe rack to store enough designer shoes to support a full season of “Project Runway”.

I then continued the assault on my lumbar region by attaching an endless adhesive strip of LED lights to the top of the bedroom walls. When I was done and the multi-colored lights started flashing, I expected the Village People to barge in through the bathroom door for a “YMCA” reminder at any time.

And speaking of the Village People, my next job was to hang vinyl record albums on the wall – for decoration. When I suggested that my daughter might want to listen to the records someday, she just patted me on the head Benny Hill style and said, “Sure, daddy.”

With the play done and my daughter’s Wi-Fi survival system fully operational, we all went downstairs, had a good cry, smothered our sorrows with huge slices of homemade pound cake, cried again and said our goodbyes. .

Even though I felt like I left a small piece of my heart (and some vertebrae) in this townhouse when we left, my daughter remains in regular contact with us. In addition to us “Facetiming” almost every night to point out dates she’s taken with our credit cards for concerts, restaurants, and Target, she sometimes calls us to fix typical student housekeeping issues – like trying to convince us that fitted sheets were invented by the Taliban. Oh, and she’s trying to set aside some time for class and homework.

Now that she’s out of the nest – sort of – I’m just looking forward to the day she comes home after graduation to pick up all that trash she left piled up under her bed.

Jase Graves is an award-winning East Texas humorous columnist. His columns have appeared in Texas Escapes magazine, the Shreveport Times, the Longview News Journal and the Kilgore News Herald. Contact Graves at [email protected]


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