Tonight my daughter came home with something else stuck in her head. Fortunately it wasn't a song. I'd have died if she'd started singing, "It's a Small World." But nope, she made the announcement that she had worn out her welcome here at her parent's house and she was ready to move on. Well, she didn't actually use that phrase and no, she hasn't worn out her welcome. Still, she is ready to move on.
I understand. I was 24 when I left home and I was way too old to finally be leaving. And don't even remind me about the time I returned home at 26. For a year. Brings a tear to my eye just thinking about it.
So anyway, she spent all of tonight exploring every website she could find that offered up apartments. Nice apartments. Darn nice apartments. Yeah. And THAT was what was stuck in her head. And mine. I worked just as hard as she did at finding a place.
Elizabeth gave me a list a mile long of places to call on ... because she was busy from 8 - 5 everyday.
Know what else was stuck in her head? She needs said apartment by, uh, Thursday? Just kidding. But she did only give me five weeks to accomplish this task. And I had to make sure that her cat would be welcome. And that the apartment was near a Chipotle. And there was sufficient shopping nearby. And it had a weight room. And a pool. And a bedroom. With a walk in closet. Balcony optional.
This from the girl who couldn't wait to get to California. Or Florida. Or Arizona. She's picked Frisco. And mama is very happy. Unless I have to help her move.
Wanna know why my child is ready to move out? So she can, and I quote, "Eat dinner in front of the TV in her room." Yep, my child is ready to break all the rules. She's gonna color outside the lines for a change.
And again, mama is happy. She can eat all she wants in her room now and I won't even know it.
Sure hope she doesn't come home unexpectedly one night ... before I have a chance to vacuum up my own crumbs.