Well, Junior has left the nest. It would not be a Henson adventure, though, without a whopping whipped-cream dose of wackiness on top. 

Full disclosure: I am laundry-averse. I love my Persil detergent but even the delight that is to my olfactory senses has not transformed me into a laundryphile. But because I can be phenomenal in short spurts I rose to the occasion and washed every garment in Jack’s dirty clothes hamper (closet).  I began the process by dousing the farm shirts in Spray & Wash and gleaned deep satisfaction when I was able to eradicate grease spots. I have never felt more feminine. I washed all the new dorm linens and towels as well so that his bedding would smell like home. 

Packed lovingly into Jack’s Camp Pine Cove trunk his shorts were neatly folded and stacked on the left one-third. The middle third row held T-shirts and the far right was overflow/ sock collection/ long sleeve T’s. With each load I felt the smugness of an Olympian whose dedication had finally been rewarded. I left the trunk open for packing because I never close anything. As I threw the final folded objects in the container a full week before move-in, I closed the lid and celebrated my accomplishment. The balance of the week was spent locating vital items like $33.00 worth of Command Hooks we used precisely not one of. 

We left Saturday morning and stopped several times en route to Lubbock. Our first stop was visit John’s adorable Dad.  To prevent a lunch stop, I suggested we just grab snacks at the grocery store. We were right next the Aldi and since I’ve heard pray tell of 19-cent avocados, I had to see for myself. I told Jack to pick a snack and between the bulk peanuts, random bungee chords and produce it was slim pickens. He asked to go next door to the 7-11 which would have added on travel time. I was committed to the plan so when he said, “there really aren’t drinks here” I set out to prove him wrong. 

“Look- there’s kefir and squeeze tubes of yogurt, what do you mean there aren’t drinks here? We don’t need to stop again.” I insisted. Ultimately I did spy a gallon jug of tea which he settled upon. I picked the string cheese of many colors which, let’s be honest, is actually the same flavor cheese in a sinister faćade of different hues. Jack rounded out his nutritious lunch with knock-off “Little Debbie” Peanut Patties. 

Since John was guarding the truck from looters, I asked Jack to switch out with Him so that John to cobble together a snack lunch from Aldi. John entered as I was checking out and yet I when I tried to locate him, I could not find my husband anywhere.  I looked throughout the store to no avail. He was not there. 

I returned to the truck and a Jack said, “Daddy went to 7-11 since there’s nothing to eat here ” Elitist. I ambled up into the jacked-up cab and handed Junior his tea jug and Peanut pattie box. John surfaced from the convenience store and we were off. 

I savored the ride with Jack at the wheel. This was so much more pleasant than his initial foray into Driver’s Ed. He had mellowed as a driver and I longer reflexively reached for the imaginary brake with my right foot. Time had been good to us. He played the just-released “Until My Voice Goes Out” By Texas Tech Alum Josh Abbott. Jack’s fave. We talked a little but mainly just were. I silently prayed for all aspects of his new life and enjoyed watching him try to drink tea from the gallon jug.  Good times. 

Panic struck me just West of Abilene when I saw “Move In Day” posts from Texas Tech on my Instagram feed. No! This was just Saturday. Move-In was not until Sunday, August 20th at 10 a.m. I re-checked the website and the information had not changed. My anxiety hit the roof of the F-250 as my FOMO hit the fan. Panicked, I called the dorm and the move-in noises in the background could not have clashed more with the chill voice of the college student on the other end. 

“Hi there. My son is going to be a resident at Murdough this year. I see on the official Texas Tech Website that move-in begins tomorrow at 10 a.m but I noticed posts on Instagram of people moving into the dorms,  and I’m confused. When is move-in day?”

Knowing the jig was up, the Raider then replied, “Yea, so if you’re here and want to you can move in today. I guess with 8,000 Freshman they kinda want move-in staggered.” My stomach bottomed out. How could I not have known this dirty little secret which apparently is passed on at send-off parties, none of which did happened in our neck of the woods? I thanked the young man, hung up and let out a large sigh. I. Was. Beside. Myself. 

“What does it matter, Mom?” Jack calmly spoke to my fierce agitation.  

I retorted, “Because I wanted to be there the second your dorm opened so that you don’t miss out on anything. It matters to me. Matters a LOT.” Jack reassured me that his moving in would happen and his patience made me really angry. 

“We won’t get there until 5 and I watched the move-in video three times and you have all this paperwork to do and your Freshman Year is RUINED because no one told me unofficial move in day is TODAY. We could have left at 5 a.m. had I known that.  I’m so upset. ” 

Let’s just be honest, he will miss my irrational rants most of all. 

I have worked extremely hard on embracing the phrase God gave me, “If it doesn’t matter to him why does it matter to you?” this past year. It is never the huge issues that torpedo my maternal mindset it’s the tiny ones. Tiny ishes like the wife beater he wore for Senior pictures, using my vintage mixing whisk on the end of a drill as a fish aerator and NOT having people sign his yearbook. Weighty stuff here. So I tried to breathe and called John who was driving the other car with the plan. 

“Move in is actually, unlike the website claimed, today. We’ll hit campus, unload as much as possible and then meet your cousin for dinner.” We arrived, my guys hopped out, Jack checked into his dorm like a grown person and John somehow scored a bucket cart. Co-eds began removing the Murdough flags for the day at 5p.m. and I parked near the entrance. I unpacked the truck bed hastily and stacked jack’s items on the sidewalk to make good use of our time. 

Fever-pitch anxiety took over as we made it to his dorm room.  Inside the minuscule space was Jack’s room mate and parents. I hugged the mom as I met her and she sweetly said that she looked as sweaty as I was when they moved their son in. Fishing rods on the side of room mate’s already- organized room so I knew that this was going to work. 

I unfurled the Bissell rug, made the bed with the sheets So dutifully laundered and repacked in the zipper bag. I then opened the trunk and began unloading  clothes and organizing them in the dorm dresser. I thought I smelled something sour and after a clandestine pit-sniff I removed the t-shirts to give them a secondary whiff. 

The ammonia smell was so dense that it blew my head back. As a life-long dog lover The smell was undeniable. “One of the dogs wet down your trunk!” I screamed in horror as the room mates parents bristled. Then,  like the odor of rotten milk which everyone must experience once identified, I shoved the shirts Jack’s and John’s direction. Smell these clothes!!!! Dog urine! Pungent did not begin to describe the horror. As usual we were in a hurry and had to deal with laundry later. 

We left to meet John’s cousin for Italian food and enjoyed old stories of XIT weekends past. After a lovely meal Jack and John hunted for a printer while I gathered the canone’s send-off soaked clothes to wash. Thanks to “limitless laundry” (FREE WASHERS and DRYERS) the entire trunk of clothes was knocked out in less than 2 hours. 

John and I said good bye for the evening and when we opened our hotel room door wondered whose toothbrush, food and bags       were scattered about our room. Eventually we were given a less-lived-in room and called it a night. 

The next day (official move-in day) we were good to go. We mainly sniffed out Mac Davis Boulevard and tried to avoid campus parking tickets. I conveyed my pride in my child and promised to pray without ceasing for him. Just a few days have passed but I feel great about his choice of Texas Tech. I mean where else are you going to meet Josh Abbot at Chimy’s on your second day in your new home town? 

#texastechmovein

#joshabbott

#collegefreshman

#petownerprobs

#dorms 

#texastechroommates 

#13thgrade