Thing One, Thing Two, the Idiot, and Me
Over the summer, I rented out the bedrooms in my house - the last one rented towards the end of August. All young 20-somethings. When I pretty much had my foot out the door with my ex, I had started moving my stuff back to my house and I promised the youngsters that no, I wasn’t going to be taking anyone’s room. The first weekend was…emotional. Things weren’t done that should have been done and I, having the bitch back, laid down the law. No more fucking free rides. EVERYONE pulls their own weight. I’m not cleaning up after other grown ass adults anymore; I’m not cooking for other grown ass adults unless I wanted to; and even though I birthed one of the tenants, I was not anyone’s mom. I was a landlord/roommate and I wasn’t going to fall back into my dumbass habits. To prove my point, I made myself very scarce for the first week. And probably made the oil companies extremely rich with all the back-roading I did.
Mainly because I was going to kill one of them. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. One seems to think that everyone but him is responsible for cleaning up after his ass - I nipped that shit in the bud really quick. One seems to think that shouting while playing video games is the best way to be heard…at midnight. One seems to think the kitchen is an all-night buffet and one of them - I don’t know who - has some serious bathroom issues, and he walks like a herd of elephants. Not going to lie, I lost my shit that first week. Even made a divot in the grass from the nuclear bomb that exploded around me.
It’s now almost been two months and I will say, although these kids still drive me nuts, they aren’t that bad. It’s probably more of a generational thing that’s driving me insane. They talk weird. Everything is abbreviated, everything is shortened. I don’t know why they think suspicious needs to be shortened to sus, but they use it like it’s an actual word. They slur their words - didn’t their parents teach them to enunciate when they spoke? I’m forever asking them to repeat themselves. To pay them back, everything I talk about with them always comes back around to sex - I’m a master at it. Initially it was too easy. My son wasn’t affected by it - he’s used to me using sexual innuendo. But the other two? Let’s just say I don’t think the local school board would want me to teach sex education class…it would take longer than a day. I will say, the “virginal” two are getting better - one is even semi-shocking me with what comes out of their mouth.
It’s been an adjustment for all of us, that much is for sure. I have no problem wrapping myself into a towel after a shower and going to get something to drink in the kitchen before I finish getting dressed. The two unrelated ones stopped mid-conversation, turned beet red and stammered their half-hearted protests. I defended myself as I grabbed my drink - I’m in a towel, guys - and I noticed one giving me a side eye as he turned his head. The door was opened and I plowed through in my usual fashion. “Darling, you couldn’t handle this body, so don’t bother fantasizing about it.” Which led to more teasing from the other unrelated and jovial back and forth. I took pity on the youngster and haven’t walked out of the bathroom in a towel since.
Another adjustment was the differences in sleep schedules. I am usually in bed by 10pm - and that’s on a night when I don’t have an early appointment the next morning. All three kids are night owls. Which is typical for the gamer community - which my tenants all are a part of - and I understand that. Except I like to sleep naked - if not totally nude, then at least in just my underwear. That makes my mid-night bathroom run a bit tricky because any second a young person could come tromping down the stairs and get an eyeful. It wouldn’t bother me - I’ve become somewhat an exhibitionist over the last couple of years - but I really don’t want to be responsible for therapy bills. In that regard, I told them all that they need to get whatever they wanted to snack on or drink from the kitchen by 10pm and if they see something they didn’t want to see after that time, that was their own fault.
However, the biggest adjustment for me is the different maturity levels of all three individuals. I have never said I was the perfect parent, nor have I said I was a perfect person, but good God! Some of the things these kids argue about, some of the things these kids do…I just wanna smack ‘em upside the head. They’re good kids, just…they are still learning the ropes of adulthood. Like understanding that a job is something to pay your bills, not necessarily something you’re passionate about. Like understanding that when rent is due, it’s due - no ifs, whys, or wherefores. Like understanding that laundry should be done no less than once a week and bed linens need to be washed at a minimum of twice a month. Like, understanding how to make basic foods like box macaroni and cheese - seriously, how can anyone screw that or Hamburger Helper up? Sometimes, when I get frustrated with them I have to take a breath and remember that they probably didn’t grow up like I did - with the weight of the world on my shoulders and a newborn baby (I know my son didn’t - I was a helicopter parent and never let him know failure for 19 years of his life). I try to remember to give them grace and understanding, especially when it comes to their opinions on things - I was their age once and thought I was going to change the world too - but some days…
Anyhoo! The soap opera that has become my life has introduced new characters to the story. Characters that I fondly think of as “Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum, and the Idiot.” These are my roommates. Twenty-something gamers.
God help me…
