In between his various jobs including pedicabbing and shooting wedding photography, he squeezed me in this week. He removed the vinyl floor of the laundry room, and found the wall behind the washer/dryer was in Big Trouble, Mister. So, he removed the wall, and we walked through a mold scare. (These "little jobs" grow like rising yeast bread, no?)
The wall board is replaced, and the new ceramic tile floor is ready for grout. And with apologizes to my artist, Married Daughter, we are painting over the Mary Englebreit-themed wall art. The room will be neutral with touches of neutral. Because this is what my consultant stager/realtor friends say sells the best. (And while we are on the subject here, has HGTV really driven us all to expect every For Sale house to be 100% move-in ready? Apparently so.)
My laundry room is 9x10 full of possibilities. But the greatest one? Watching Young Son working with such confidence. Remember being in your 20s and thinking anything could be done? A time when you didn't know what you didn't know. Experience had not dampened the enthusiasm to try something new. Tile a floor? Why not! Ever done it before? No, but it shouldn't be too hard, he says. And he was right. I would never have attempted it on my own, but he has made the last few days a joy. Watching him work hard, and assuming the role of helper to his leadership. What a reversal that is!
I'm not ready to brush my hands together and declare that my job as Mama is now finished. Young Son still has some unpolished corners. But I've spent two days admiring all the progress he's made in his young adult life. And taking some time to drink it in, savor it, and hear his dreams for a full future. And be pretty darn proud of him.