The other day, I mentioned to my imaginary stalker Cyndi that KOTS (King of the Slackers) had been asked to move out of house. Now, this has been a long time coming because KOTS hasn’t done much of anything to advance his life. His dear mother has been at the end of her rope with his behavior. She kindly told him that he needed to move out.
Now, one of her fears that KOTS would be “homeless”. Considering that we aren’t the only relatives in his family, it is pretty much impossible for him to be homeless. Perhaps he could be homeless if he decided not to return to a home that evening. Certainly his dad wouldn’t let him stay homeless and not offer him a room in his home. For KOTS to be homeless, it would be his choice not his family’s choice.
Besides, KOTS isn’t into “changes” and “personal improvement”. For him to make a choice like this is totally out of character for him. His idea of “personal struggle” is the fact he doesn’t have any clean clothes to wear because he is too lazy to do laundry. His suffering (or rather the people around him’s suffering) is the stench of his clothes.
This brings us full circle back to KOTS and KOTS’ situation: KOTS is not homeless. He has a place to live and is doing quite fine without his mommy helping him.
The amusing thing about this whole situation is that our house is no different from before. He still comes over and eats our food, he still takes showers here (and leaves his dirty clothes and towels on the bathroom floor), and still doesn’t flush the toilet. It’s like he never left.
The only major difference is that I have taken the huge task of tackling the mess that is known as KOTS’ bedroom. I’ve been cleaning this mess and it is a very scary mess. I strongly believe KOTS didn’t know how the washing machine worked, what a garbage can was, or that dirty dishes are supposed to be returned to the kitchen. I have found things that would make a professional garbage man puke.
I’ve made some headway in the room but it still has the smell of port-a-potty on a hot summer day. I have managed to wash a good deal of clothes and packed them away for KOTS. I could pack them away dirty, however, I have a hard time imagining myself doing that. One bigger mystery is why I’m bothering packing up these clothes when they didn’t matter to KOTS before and they don’t matter to him now. I found a pile of socks that could have been easily washed and worn again. Yet they were in a pile just sitting there.
Instead, my socks have been disappearing for a long time and I have discovered where they have gone. Mystery solved! Sometimes, I’m so proud of myself!