So as I mentioned in my last post, which you of course have not forgotten as the written image of CIA Cat exploding from both ends is seared into your brain, right next to that one horrifying time you accidentally saw your parents having sex… *shudder*… Hubby and I are moving.
Now because we’re moving into a larger place so Hubby’s mother can move in with us for “a short time, which no one is actually willing to say how long short is”… stop laughing… he has been doing everything in his power to make the move as easy for me as possible. Which WAS awesome.
Yes, I used the word was, as in past tense, as in THAT IS NO LONGER THE FREAKING CASE!!!
A month before the Big Move, Hubby was packing items and moving filled boxes to a storage facility. A week before the Big Move Hubby was reserving the movers to come while I was at work and ordering a steam vacuum to fix the horrors that our pets had bestowed upon the carpet. Everything was set for the Big Move on Friday. And then on Wednesday I get the text…
Me: What’s up moving machine!!
Hubby: I am so sorry.
Me: You dropped my grandmothers china didn’t you!?!?!
Me: oh… too bad, that stuff is kinda ugly.
Hubby: My work just called and they need me in Portland on Friday.
Me:… Friday, as in our our moving day Friday?
Me: … okay… when are you coming back? We have to be all moved and cleaned and out by Monday.
Me:.. I want a divorce.
Hubby: You would still have to move.