Extended Stay Family
Francine rolled into the County Administration offices looking like the dog had dragged her to work. “These three day holiday weekends are going to be the death of me,” she muttered to Harvey, the county’s health officer. Harvey looked up from his list of septic tank inspections for the week and said, “What? You don’t like football playoffs all day long, all weekend long?”
Francine tossed her purse behind the counter and made a bee-line to the coffee urn in the back corner. She was still growling by the time she returned with her quart mug Big Gulp steaming with fresh joe. “One ballgame is one too many, Harve, but honest to god, there must have been a dozen. Wally had a friend or ten over, beer cans everywhere and crummy leftover pizzas far as the eye could see.”
Wally was her 26 year old son, laid off from the lumber mill in Sedro Wooley three years ago, unemployment exhausted and now a refugee in Francine and her husband Trey’s basement which they’d finished off into living quarters. If you called a room with no windows, a small bed, apartment sized fridge and a makeshift toilet and sink ‘living’. He had a small TV in there but mostly Wally watched ESPN on the 48 inch drive-in theater screen in Trey and Francine’s living room. Meaning, his real living was upstairs.
“How long are kids supposed to stay in the nest, Harve? Riddle me that!”
“I read the other day that nearly half of children from 18 to 30 were living with their folks. You’re in good company, Frannie. Just takes longer these days for kids to grow up, I guess.”
“When I was 18, I couldn’t wait to get out of my parents’ house. Got an apartment with a couple of girlfriends in Seattle, found a job and got out. What’s so hard about that?”
Harvey put his appointment list down. “Remember what you paid for the apartment, Fran? My first one was 75 bucks, some sad little second story one bedroom over the TV repair shop down in Ballard. 75 bucks a month. What do you suppose that would go for now? I bet you couldn’t find anything cheaper than a thousand. On top of that, figure how much some minimum wage job would pay. Might tell you why kids are living at home.”
Francine took a slow hit off her Big Gulp cup. “You think we should charge Wally rent?” The idea seemed to grow immediately in her imagination. She was looking at Harvey and already nodding her head. Why not? she was saying more to herself than him. Room and board too! Yes, why not? “Harvey,” she finally said out loud, “you’re a genius.”
Harvey shrugged. Tomorrow Franny would be muttering about the same thing. The kid couldn’t afford rents in the area, he sure couldn’t afford Francine’s. “Or,” he said, shuffling papers, “you could move away. That’s what we did. Jim, our son, didn’t want to leave his friends. I hear Phoenix is nice. At least winters….”
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Tags: Empty Nest Refilled, Kids in the Basement