This weekend I moved into my first place. Brick house, room for a garden, my own room, a garage, and so many responsibilities. No one told you how much there is you’ll have to deal with when you're on your own. Luckily my parents raised me for this “real world” we enter into after college. They had me clean my own dishes, do my own laundry, rake the leaves, and cook my own food. So little shout out to mom and pops; thanks for all that you’ve done to prepare me.

Moving into my own house has marked the beginning of the eventful summer. This past weekend was filled with unique adventures with none other than my dad. It started with a massive clean, a big shop, and milkshakes on the floor.

The first day we banged out shopping, which entailed going to an array of mattress and thrift stores. We searched high and low for the funkiest lamps and tables, but were equally filled with disappointment. We laid on maybe 20 different mattresses, and my dad almost fell asleep on far too many. We made up nicknames for the shop owners, and almost passed out from not eating a full meal all day.

We ended the day at one of our favorite places, Billy Jacks. We tested some beer, got way too much food, and talked about memories of when I was young. For you future movers, moving into your first place is emotional for you but it is for your parents as well. But as many people know, my dad and I’s relationship is something different than most father daughter relationships, and that’s being said with the best intentions in mind. He’s the biggest goofball and one of the craziest and kindest men I know.

Things like this you will start to recognize as you grow older, whether it’s moving into your first house or just being home for the summer. You begin to recognize and love relationships that mean more to you. So many of you may not being moving into a house, but recognize getting older can be a good thing, mentally, even if physically you start to age. So aside from some small life advice, our night continued.

After the generosity of my father, I treated him to none other than a Cook Out milkshake. I was assuming he would choose one of the crazy 50 flavors, but the man chose vanilla. I let him do his thing as I enjoyed my Oreo mint shake. We cruised home and begun to unwind. He took a spot on the floor downstairs, as I enjoyed my brand new queen…sorry Dad.

And the next day began, bright and early. I woke up to the lovely sound of my dad's drill in the room next door. I couldn’t have gotten too angry, because he was building me a bed frame and some shelves. That man did help build multiple additions to our house at home, so it didn’t surprise me too much. We continued to put things away, then sat on the ground and enjoyed a glass of iced tea.

We said our goodbyes, with a great big hug with a weekend for the books.