We get the moving truck on Saturday. The house is filled with boxes, some full, some half full. Ones still waiting to be filled with the past 6 years of our Missouri life.
The girls are trying to squeeze in as many hours with their friends as they can. There have been tears. Lots of tears. Some my own. Most coming from Katie, the oldest. Mary, youngest, if she has cried. It has been in private, away from all of us.
He doesn't have the job yet. But he is taking care of the issue that is the hold up with a lawyer friend of ours. And he has quite of few people wanting to talk to him down in MS too.
I've always hated packing. Even from when he was in the Army.
As I type this my husband is asking what has me tip tapping some much over here in my recliner.
He mimics "My husband is soooo mean. He's an ass. He's making me pack and move." Does that sound about right he asks me.
Yeah sure, I grin and have to duck my feet away before he attempts to tickle them.
Back to the packing. Does anyone else get overwhelmed by it all. I look around at all our stuff and wonder where to start. How do I start? It all seems to be so much. If I had all the money in the world. I would pay someone to just come in and do it all for me. But then I'd probably obsess that they were sniffing my underwear or my husband's.
We are going to be traveling this weekend. Our last day in Missouri being Sunday. Or Monday depending on how much driving we want to do.
Come the middle of next week we won't be stuck in the Mid-West anymore. We'll be a Yankee guy and a southern belle in the Dirty South.