When A Foil Leads To Boil

To mourn or not to mourn, that is the real question plaguing parents sending their children off to college.   Summer is behind us and the kids are back in school.  My youngest is a junior in college and she just moved into her first apartment.  Finally, the piles of clothes, and onslaught of boxes are out of my back hall and we discovered that she really does have a bedroom floor.

Of course, move-in day was a sultry 94 degrees; with humidity so thick it would have put a Turkish bath to shame.  We arrived at her new apartment with two vehicles donning the warning label, “wide load,” which would have even impressed the Clampetts of “The Beverly Hillbillies. “

My daughter headed on the half-mile trek to the leasing office to pick up her new key, only to be informed that she owed another $89 for rent.

My husband took off for the office so quickly; I mistook him for the Road Runner.

“ Could you explain to me why we suddenly owe another $89?” asked my husband as the sweat poured off his balding head. “What did we do, break a window?”

“Ah…we made a mistake on your invoice for moving in early and the difference is $89,” said the college student behind the counter.

“Wait, did this came as a complete surprise to you and how is it my problem? “  The miniscule amount of hair on his head was standing at attention.  “Fine, put it on this credit card. “

“ We don’t take credit cards sir. “

With the realization that he had left the checkbook at home, he trudged the half mile to my wallet and back and he said,

“Alright, here is $89 in cash, just give me a receipt,“ he said as his blood pressure achieved pressure cooker status.

“I’m really sorry, but it has to be a check or a money order,” she said sheepishly.

“Where in the hell am I supposed to get a money order on a Sunday?”

“Um, I think at one of the gas stations around here,” was her reply.

My husband threw his sunglasses down on the counter and asked to see the manager.   The girl reappeared claiming that her manager wasn’t available, probably because she was hiding under her desk.

“Uh…you can just drop a check off tomorrow or the next day,” the young girl blurted while retreating back into the office.

By now my husband was in a foul mood as we unloaded the cars.  Our daughter is living in a four bedroom, four-bath unit that is nicer than the first house we bought when we got married.

Three hours later, we had her bed made, had the bathroom set up, curtains hung and even had her pictures on the walls.   The danger of her father exceeding his boiling point had passed and we were finishing up unpacking her portion of the kitchen.

Her third roommate arrived and announced that our daughter was in the wrong bedroom.   According to the individual leases they signed, she was supposed to be in room  “c” on the other side of the apartment not “b”.   If I put on my readers and used a magnifying glass, you could see the imprint of the letter on the door hinge that even CSI could have missed.

My husband was ready to blow as steam shot out of his ears.   He tossed his tool bag on the floor of her new room, swearing under his breath.  Knowing a watched father always boils, we quickly undid all of our hard work and dragged it across the apartment.  My eldest who was helping, kept repeating, … “duck and cover.”

We put her second room together in record time…only two hours.  My husband was seen wandering aimlessly around the apartment muttering something about a “Goat Rodeo” and a “Cluster @$&%.”

We finally said our goodbyes and headed for the nearest restaurant that had a liquor license.   The waiter appeared and immediately told us about a special on pitchers of beer.

“I’ll have the tallest beer you have and we’ll take it from there,” he said coming back to life.

“ There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? “ I said.

The layer of frost on his beer mug sizzled away at his touch- no one spoke, as we all knew we were on thin ice.

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Tags: apartment living, college students, Mom, moving

Category: college, Mom Challenges