Houseguest?

Did I mention that the boy's father is staying with us? Or that he has now been in my little apartment for.... TWO WEEKS?

Yup. He was out of his apartment on August 1st, and doesn't have to be at his next place (in Iowa) until this Friday. Except when he asked us if he could stay, he told us it would be "a couple days." And THEN come to find out (after he was already here), he was still in the process of applying for the PhD program in Iowa... not even accepted yet! He just got his admission letter yesterday. ... ... Don't even ask. The boy is about as annoyed as I am.

And you know, he's really nice. And easy to get along with. And he is doing his very best to not impose at all... but it's hard, having someone in your home for that long. Especially someone you didn't invite. Simply because it puts a damper on your ability to relax at home. And with the boy's dad, you can't have a simple conversation. It has to be philosophical or political or something, and that is just exhausting when you don't feel like talking about that stuff. And so I showed him my pile of National Geographics so that his mind could be stimulated by something other than me and now he reads it and wants to show/discuss the pictures and articles. I can't win.

Strange little things.

Like things just keep ... appearing around my apartment. (Things he thinks I might use?) A couple hand towels in the bathroom. A plastic letter opener with a magnifying glass at the end (so I can see the little print, he told me). A brown leather luggage tag for my black plastic laptop case. A toothbrush holder that doesn't quite fit on my pedestal sink. A bag of raw hamburger patties from a barbeque he attended. Two half pieces of sausage - not even in tupperware, just sitting in my fridge. An orange. Half a watermelon. Two sugar packets. A chamomile tea bag.

I told the boy he's like my grandmother was ... always foraging for little things to take home. And the boy laughed because his grandmother was that way too, and his father made fun of her for it! Well, the fruit never falls far from the tree, does it.

Oh, and he has a habit of locking my deadbolt... which I don't even have the key to. The other night the boy and I were at a friend's house for dinner (homemade Indian.. yum.) and my stomach didn't exactly agree with my tastebuds. So the IBS kicked in. And for those of you who don't know IBS, when it gets angry, I need a bathroom and privacy NOW. And so I got to the top of my stairs, found the door locked, and panicked. Seriously, I flipped the fuck out. Pounding, screaming "PLEASE LET ME IN!" He opened the door and I blasted by without an explanation and hid in the bathroom for a long time sobbing.

Apparently he asked the boy, "what did you do to her?" That's pretty funny, in hindsight. Also, I feel pretty badly because it was 11:30 pm and his father was asleep. That's a rude awakening, especially from someone like me. But he should know better than to lock me out of my own home!

I have other stories too but my keyboard is acting funny and I don't feel like dealing with it right now. Let's just say that he has gone through a learning process about how the boy and I cohabitate.

And that he's leaving tomorrow.... godwilling.