One Year Down, Three To Go...

Today Perry and I drove to Iowa City and helped Joe move out of his dorm. It's hard to believe his freshman year is over already. It seems like yesterday that we were hauling all that stuff UP to the third floor. I remember how shiny and clean that brand new microwave looked and how we unpacked all his clothes and bedding with care. 

Today was slightly different. I carried the microwave away from my body so I wouldn't get whatever-it-was all over my shirt. His bedding and clothes were now shoved in trash bags that we hauled over our shoulders.

Un-decorating the room took much less time for him as he ripped flags and posters off the wall. Joe is a practical boy and doesn't fuss with hammer and nails. Duct tape had been used to secure all his decor in place. Bits and pieces of it clung to the wall and ceiling like some pitiful remains of party streamers. 

There were a few glitches in the moving out process. First, the main elevator wasn't working, which meant every student leaving Currier was trying to use the same service elevator. We borrowed one of those hotel-type carts and loaded it for the first trip down. It took 20 minutes of waiting to get a chance to squeeze in with another family and their cart. (What a way to make friends!) After delivering the first load to the truck, Perry and I bypassed the elevator ordeal and CARRIED the cart up to the third floor. (Why did I bother working out this morning before we left??)

Once the last load was in place we got a complete view of the mess left behind on Joe's dorm floor. The carpet was littered with icky looking particles and debris, but the dorm vacuum wouldn't be available for at least three more hours. Apparently, that vacuum is in high demand on moving out day, and Joe missed the memo about signing up for a time to use it.  I desperately wished for a broom and dustpan or something to tidy up the place. I even briefly considered crawling around and picking up the larger pieces by hand until my common sense and fear of infection kicked in. With a sigh, I reminded myself that this was HIS room and it will be HIS damage deposit. 

If I'd had a pack of post-its in my purse, I probably would have left behind  a quick note of apology saying that I'd really tried to raise him better than that.