Big boy moves

moving boxes

By my calculations, Boywonder has moved out at least twice. During his university years, I mean. I’m not counting the times he was mad and stomped off to live in the swing set for an afternoon when he was 8.

This weekend, BoyWonder will move out — again. The difference is, this time, it’s not temporary lodging away from home during college. This one is for real. A career opportunity far away. An apartment in another town. A town that is hours away from the place he has always called home.


Finding him an apartment hundreds of miles away at the tail end of a pandemic and the height of a housing boom was nothing short of a miracle.

As a former landlord myself, I completely understand the need for due diligence. What I do not understand is charging application fees only to inform applicants you do not actually have any rentals available. That, my friends, seem sketchy at best.

Fortunately, GirlWonder is fixing to be a lawyer, because we will be circling back around on some of that. I also have zero patience for any place — housing, job, other — that takes applications but cannot be bothered to follow up. We don’t need a lengthy dissertation or long goodbye. We do, however, need answers.

On a related note, the places that contacted him weeks later to inform him they would rent to him should not have been quite so surprised to find that he had — literally and figuratively — moved on. The good candidates do that. So that should tell you all you need to know about the last few weeks.


At one point, I was absolutely convinced my son was going to start his new career while living in his car. The Lord looks out, however, and he was finally able to secure an apartment sight unseen.

As I write this, he still has not set foot inside his new digs. In fact, he has to start his job while staying in a hotel, then move into the apartment later. His first week there, he will have neither appliances, nor a bed. Fortunately, he is also an adventurous sort.

Remember, this is the person who went to Australia for nearly a month with a backpack and his lucky hat. Sleeping on an air mattress with his food in a cooler is practically the lap of luxury, as far as BoyWonder goes.


It should be noted that he has excellent credit, savings and income. I say this not to brag, but to set the stage. He’s a prime candidate for any apartment, utility, etc.

Nonetheless, he had nothing but struggles trying to get utilities and insurance.

From the onset, it became clear that the previous occupant of his soon-to-be dwelling was a ne’er do well. This person or persons had left such a trail of debt and destruction in their wake that utilities were hesitant to get burned again.

Despite assurances that he was an entirely different person, BoyWonder was required to pay well in advance for certain things before the companies would agree to turn them on. He also discovered, when calling for his auto insurance now that he is on his own miles from home, that there was a ding on his record for a claim on his car that happened before he even owned it.

Sure, apps and websites are easy enough to click and pay, but try explaining to an online algorithm that the claim isn’t even yours. You really need a human agent for that.

As he prepared to get everything set up in his name for the new place in a new town, he was heard to say more than once that adulting is expensive. That it is son, that it is.

I share this to say that I don’t want anyone to tell me how kids these days have it so easy and don’t know about hardship. Clearly, surviving a pandemic, graduating from high school, trade school or college during said pandemic and coming of age in the digital world are all worthy of some serious respect.


As a final hurrah to his first foray into living entirely on his own for real, BoyWonder received a call late Friday afternoon telling him that his apartment would not, in fact, be ready when he needed it. The reason? It was still under construction.

To this, I am told, he laughed and laughed. No delays will be allowed, he assured the nice apartment manager. Boywonder will be moving in as planned, and they will work around him.

Under construction? Drywall dust? Iffy flooring? Wet paint? Not everything works? This guy grew up in an old house that was an ongoing DIY adventure. Quite frankly, he’s trained for this his whole life.


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Warm, witty and just a wee bit warped, Kymberly Foster Seabolt is a native of Kent, Ohio, who survived childhood exposure to disco and grew up to marry and move to the country. Her column weaves her special brand of humor with poignant, entertaining, and honest portrayals of parenting, marriage, and real life. She currently lives in northeastern Ohio with her husband, two children, two dogs, two cats, and numerous dust bunnies who wish to remain nameless.



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