Don't Enter Unless Medicated

One year down, three more to go

The rapper they call Scott D has many talents.  Maintaining a college dorm:  Not one of them.  It will take months of intensive therapy to wipe away the vision that greeted us when we entered his cave of WTF in Santa Cruz.  His roomie (aka D-Mac) sat calmly on his bed, suitcases packed, ready to roll.  On our son's side: evidence of a cyclone.  Jerry Brown declared it a personal emergency.  FEMA should be calling us any second now.  In the meantime, hubby and I broke into a lively rant.  "What the eff happened in here?" "Are you eff'n kidding me?"  "You've eff'd up all your clothes."  "What the eff is this thing?"  Yep, there was a lot of eff'n this, and eff'n that, as we shifted through the clutter and dust to find anything salvageable.  Don't get me wrong.  The rapper they call Scott D has brought us plenty of nachas over the years, moments of joy and pride and you won't believe the three-pointer he made to win the game.  This wasn't a nachas moment.  This was more of  a "where did we go wrong?" moment.  But these things happen when you send a young man off to college.  A young man with talents.  Maintaining a college dorm:  Not one of them.