Goodbye to my dresser, and my house

Last fall, I came home from my second year at college to find a travesty in my household.

My mother did not turn my room that I shared with my twin sister into a sewing room, she did not have a mid-life crisis and she was not developing random new hobbies now that her two oldest children had left the nest.

She did something much, much worse.

She stole my dresser and gave it to my little brother, of all people. I first found it hysterical. Why mine? Why not the twin's dresser who was in the Army? Well, yours was closer to the door, she said, which made it easier to move.

And then she lovingly pointed to half of a drawer she cleared for me out of my sister's dresser.

Nice try.

Needless to say, I lived out of my suitcase for the most part. And ever since I went off to college in Missouri, most of my trips home have consisted of me living out of my suitcase.

To some, this might seem odd. College kid comes home from school and they enjoy their own room, their old things, the clothes they left behind and high school decor pasted up on their walls.

But looking back two years ago to when I left for college, I should've known my dresser was going to be stolen anyway. I asked for it.

I remember that summer before I left and saying to my Mom how I thought this was the last summer I'd be home for a long period of time. I told her I needed to start getting summer internships and that would require me going different places.

And I remember her not believing me.

Last summer, I lived in St. Louis and worked a few different jobs to become a resident of Missouri to decrease my tuition costs, which is something a lot of college students do. It wasn't optional, but I definitely am grateful for all of the independence I gained from it. Those three months were hard enough for my mother (and myself, included).

Then I called her this spring to tell her I thought I was going to live in Kansas City for most of the summer for a different job. I was also going to Boston for a week for work and might spend some time back in Columbia, home to Mizzou.

She then sarcastically asked me if I was ever going to come home. I explained to her that I told her two years ago I probably wouldn't be home for long periods of time once college started.

"Well, I didn't think you were serious," she said.

Well, I was. But spending my summers other places aside from home and fully supporting myself teaches a person so much about what the post-college world is like. It's worth it, even if it means leaving a Mom who is your best friend.

Sorry, Mom. You definitely got the short end of the stick and have had an unconventional experience with Sam and I both moving out. One of us went off to the Army and I never seem to have time to come home for extended periods of time.

But taking away my dresser? Now that was pretty good payback.

 

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