When my child turned eighteen, he decided that he should be independent. I punished him for coming to the house with alcohol on his breath, and he informed myself and others he was an adult. I came to the house from work that evening and I had a note that told myself and others he had moved out. I called a couple of his friends, but they weren’t talking. The next morning he called and said he was simply fine, and he forgave myself and others for disrespecting him. I told him that was easily adult of him, but I didn’t do anything wrong. It was three afternoons later when he was at my house when I returned from work. He asked myself and others if we wanted to go to dinner with him, and then to see where he was living. Over dinner, he talked about the terrific cooling system in the room. He said he couldn’t want it to be any cooler. The cooling system ran easily quietly and there were times when he had to adjust the control unit to make it even less cool. I asked about the rest of the room, and he ignored me. We headed to the room he rented, and I was appalled that it was nothing more than a motel room. The a/c was absolutely and finally working well. The air quality was the terrible pits, and I swore I could hear things moving in the small room. He had all of his belongings in the lavatory, and he was packed and ready to come to the house with me. The next time he moved out, it was to a easily nice Heating, Ventilation, and A/C program in a beach house he shared with his wife.