I was told by those who know, that when both my daughters left the house last September, my wife and I would find unexpected pleasure in the Empty Nest.
I wrote these people off as kooks.
Possibly misanthropes who did not love or enjoy their children as much as we did. There was no way I could take joy in my girls being away. A thousand miles to the north and the east.
I had the hardest time with the beginning of their college adventures.
But now one of the messy birds has returned to the nest. And with the completion of coursework in Early 17th Century Russian Furniture Upholstery and Organic Chemistry 101, the other one will not be far behind.
Oh shit.
The second bathroom upstairs already looks like a landfill of make up, and wet brassieres and other mysterious feminine toiletries I know nothing about.
The kitchen sink is full of dishes that can't go in the dishwasher, because last night's load has not yet been emptied.
And the neighbors have once again begun shooting me dirty looks for taking up valuable parking space on the street with our three vehicles.
Oh and the good sharp Irish cheddar cheese I like to treat myself to, is all but gone. There's not enough to make one nacho.
It's still mid-Spring and I have a whole Summer of this mishegas to look forward to.
Perhaps this bout of grumpiness has also been compounded by the fact that I am dealing with a Strep Throat. Infected by a germ that was no doubt living peacefully in Boulder, CO but managed to attach itself to my daughter's 113 lbs. of luggage, board a Southwest Airlines 737 and take up residence in my previously unswollen salivary glands.
Oh well, I always have that prescription cough medicine. Mmmmm, sweet nectar of relief and possible dizziness and euphoria.
Also, by the end of August, when it's time for them to go back to school, I'll be singing a different tune.
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