We finally voted college girl out of her room here at home.
She’ll be home a total of 13 days sprinkled throughout the entire summer, and keeping that coveted room empty is “just so stupid, Mom,” while the two high school girls share, and Boy is jammed into the teeniest, tiniest room.
Kid3 has been a turkey vulture since big sister’s first acceptance letter; circling the bedroom anxious for her moment to pounce and claim the space.
She’s been more than patient.
Number 3 shared a room with her baby brother until BO emerged (hers not his), then shared with her older sister ever since.
Now they each want their own, personal mess.
Let the wild rumpus room switch-a-roo begin:
Kid3 gets college girl’s space; Kid2 goes to Boy’s room; Boy gets the largest bedroom with a loft and double closet. Why? We don’t know, except he wants the loft and the girls want out. And apparently he needs all that extra closet space for the three outfits he wears over and over again, between the nasty-ass smelly uniforms he ball-sweats in every day of the week and never washes – “for good luck.”
Kid2 will be leaving for college next year, so she gets the smallest room, which was Boy’s. She is desperately awaiting peeling the life-size Derek Jeter fathead off the wall, being the only woman in America who (is not a Boston Fan and) doesn’t want the Yankee in her bedroom.
Kid3 finally gets her first choice: a rarity for the middle, forgotten child, and had college girl’s crap packed into crates and pushed into the hall with an hour’s notice.
Boy is thrilled: loft, desk, closets, shelves, and painting everything orange: EVERYTHING. He, unlike his sister, is anxiously awaiting Derek Jeter’s arrival. And we’re okay with that.
Kid1? She’s couch surfing, helping the bedroom reno while she’s home, and not the least bit sad about giving one last hand-me-down to her little sister. For the first time, neither are we.