I eat boxes for breakfast
After what seemed like the longest weekend of my entire life - packing, loading, moving, unloading, unpacking, sleeping - we have reached probably 80% completion on our move. Sure, there are still a few boxes glaring at us from each bedroom, our garage is still coated with boxes of Christmas past, but at least we can see the floor in our kitchen - and oh how nice the floor is.
I was a bit worried about our appliances though, considering neither Jennie nor I thought to measure the space (the fridge already in there was frick’n huge!), and fortunately most of them went in without a hitch - that is except the fridge. Fortunately for us, and less than fortunately for dad, the trim and a bit of the counter top was all that need to be modded for it to slide gleefully into its final resting place. Dad, you’re an Egyptian magician.
I’ll leave you with this picture of us, post unload into the new house, and I think Jennie’s stance says it all…
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