Sunday, October 28, 2007

FREEDOM! The Girls are Moving OUT! YES!

OH, the joy of it. OH, the freedom! Yes, YES YEEEEESSSSS!! Ignore me, I'm just thinking about all the exciting things that will and will not be happening in my apartment now that the brats are leaving me. FINALLY, and I mean ...FINALLY, I will get my bathroom back. I'm losing all of my towels, but I don't care. I'll start over, and this time with the colors I want. I'll lose all of my dishes, my pots, my pans, my cups, silverware, toaster, toaster oven, electric can opener, and I'm being told that they'll be taking my couch, my dining table, and even this computer - but you know, it's the price you have to pay for peace! I'm OK with it. (There's always Sears!)

Tomorrow I put down the deposit, the pet deposit, the cable and electric deposit, and the first month's rent for THEIR place....again, the price you pay. Freedom is not free - it never is. What else will I lose? Oh, bookshelves, magazines, DVDs, CDs, books, and that cute little three drawer marble topped cabinet that I thought I could never part with. I'm losing the 7" digital photo frame that I bought myself for Christmas last year. I'm losing my hope chest, several pieces of Frankoma pottery, and that really adorable statue of Faith that someone made for our family - BUT...I'm getting: My bathroom back. I'm getting my very own kitchen! I get to sleep alone again, if you consider sleeping with two dogs alone. What I mean is, I won't be waking up to fighting teenagers who pinch each other to see who gets the other side of my bed when they come in from work at 3:00 in the morning. I get 2 of my 3 closets back, and there won't be buckets and buckets full of stuff, stuff, and more stuff stacked on top of each other in MY room....Emancipation Day! It has arrived.

What did I do to deserve such bliss? I made a bunch of money and decided to put it to good use. Rather than wait on the little ones to come up with the money themselves, I boldly walked up to the apartment manager and asked if any apartments were available this month, and YES - to my great pleasure - one is. I snagged it! I didn't even ask. I just booked it! I broke the news to the Bobsy-Twins while I sat to dine at the restaurant were they are chief among wait staff. "I paid for you two to have your own place. It's 60 feet from my back door, so we can still see each other, but I won't have to listen to your music, watch your TV shows, put up with wet towels, red hair dye, makeup or strange people that you bring home." They stared at me. At first I believe they were in shock - no one to cook for them, no one to clean for them, no one to tickle their backs: something I did simultaneously while being forced to watch Futurama, Family Guy, and some really strange anime shows late at night. GOOD BYE!!!

They took 2 seconds to think about it. Both kissed me on the cheeks and the last thing I heard from either of them was the endless debate over who gets which closet, who gets the bedroom, who gets the wall with the most space and then just slightly out of ear shot I could barely make out Caity whining that she wasn't tall enough to reach the tray on top of the refrigerator in the back, so she begged her sister to get it for her. That's the one thing I like about these two - NO MATTER WHAT, they have each other's backs. They may fight constantly, biting, kicking, screaming, rolling around the ground on top of each other kind of fighting; but they always seem to kiss and makeup, or at least assist each other when the other one needs a little help.

What price PEACE? Everything - but it is worth it just to soak in my tub with my music, and let MY thoughts be uninterrupted. I love my girls, but they have to go. (You know the Food Fairy won't be far away - she makes her appearance weekly, just like she did for their brother when I kicked his butt out. I called him Little Eagle for about 6 months before I did, and I refused to help him do anything - he finally got the!) He's soaring now!

Good luck little ladies. You know I'm close by, but try really super hard to bother your Uncle John if you need something - it's his turn to raise you.

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