Toilet Paper, Towels and Tears

After weeks of anticipation, my son was home for Christmas! Know how I knew? I walked into the bathroom and saw that empty roll. And, um, that doesn’t happen when it’s just me and the horde.

I had to laugh at this thing that drove me nuts when he was growing up, but which was such a welcome sight on the night of the 22nd. I knew that in short order there would also be no clean towels and that all of the used ones would be in his bedroom, somehow having made it completely under the bed. It’s Y chromosome towel sorcery, I’m sure of it. And, let me just make this clear – I loved it. Then again, he was here for only eleven days. After about 14 days of it, I’d probably have been ready to box some ears!

I’ve never been married or even lived with a romantic partner; so, my son is my only experience in dealing with the irritations that come with sharing space with someone you love every day for many years. I’ve had roommates, of course, some of whom drove me batty, others of whom I drove batty (that’s for you, Jeannie Kay). Now that my son has been away for a couple of years, I’ve gotten used to doing things my way, in my time. Having him home reminded me of dealing with another’s way and another’s time – a conversation I had with him some months ago regarding a minor dispute with one of his roommates.

At the time, he was working four jobs and, honestly, I don’t know when he slept! One night, he had cooked his dinner, but not washed up his dishes. One of his roommates was annoyed about this and said something to him about it. He was, in turn, annoyed at having been taken to task over something he would have gotten to in his own time. I don’t recall having this specific incident with any of my roommates; but, given my rather, um, freeform housekeeping style, it’s likely that I did. Being WAAAAAY on the other side of this conflict now, I asked him if the dishes that he didn’t wash were his or if they belonged to the house. “They belong to the house,” he said. “So,” I said, “when another person wanted to use these dishes, they had to come find you and get you to wash them before they could cook their own food. Is that about right?” “Well, when you put it that way….” he said.

As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder and, sometimes, that’s true. Without him here, I forget all the little, really petty things about him that irritate me over time. And, hopefully, he forgets the little, petty things about me that irritate him, as well! So, after a year without his sweet little face in my house, I just looked at the empty roll, laughed and replaced it. Then, after the fastest eleven days in the history of time, I had to take him back to the airport and put him back on a plane that would return him to the adventure that is the life he is building.

But, unlike last year, this time, I left him with only a few tears and a giant hollow place in my chest. He returned to his adventure and I returned to the disappointment of toilet paper on the roll and a cabinet full of clean towels.

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