One year ago yesterday I flew across the country to live in Indiana.
The things we do for love.
I celebrated my one year in the land of corn, race cars and trailer parks by steam cleaning my carpets. Nothing like the hum of a rented rug doctor to make you miss living at home as an irresponsible teenager. HA! Remember when all you had to keep clean was YOUR room? Sure I had a few other chores but the whole house didn’t go to hell in a very dirty handbasket if I didn’t do them, I just got to see the vein on my mom’s head pop out. A lot. (Yeah, sorry about that mom, I was a butthead.) But now? If I don’t do my “chores” (snort) not only does my child eat rotten potato (thinking it’s chocolate) off the floor but in all reality my kid could be taken away from me if I slacked enough on my household duties.
Mom, sorry for not appreciating all those times you pulled out the Bissell and steam cleaned the WHITE CARPET IN OUT KITCHEN. But white carpet? Really? That’s like dressing a toddler in white fluffy lace just for the fun of it. Anyway, thanks for always having food in the house even though I always claimed there was nothing good, thanks for paying the cable bill even though you never got a replacement remote when the other one went missing. Having to walk up to the TV to change the channel? That’s sooo 1986. My point? You were a really good grown up. Even though I said you sucked at it. All the time.
One year in Indiana down, at least two more to go. One year closer to being a real grown up, at least sixty more to go.
I’m grateful, really.