We’re back people.
More than three months after Hurricane Irene kicked our house’s ass, we’ve moved back in.
It was kind of like doing a semester abroad except I didn’t learn a language or hook up with some hot guy named Valentino who lived with his parents and enjoyed mocking my American white sweat socks.
But before returning home, we had to pack up the rental house. And Rick and I have slightly nuanced differences in our packing techniques. You see, I’m more of an organizer. He’s more of a “throw all the crap in random boxes and put it in the van as quickly as possible” kind of guy. I think we can pretty much assume at this point that we won’t be opening up a moving company together unless it’s called, “You Move, We Argue About How To Do It.”
Rick’s most impressive and helpful moment: When he remembered to eject the Taylor Swift DVD from the DVD player at the rental house. Strong. Very strong.
Sort of less helpful moment: When he packed my computer case in the moving van without the computer actually in it. Well, the case is nice too.
Rick and I hired no movers and quickly came to regret it. Because now we have to hire chiropractors. We just didn’t realize how many things we had accumulated at our rental house. “How could we have so much stuff if I’ve been wearing the same three pairs of socks for the last three months?!” Rick wondered.
We ended up racing the clock to try to get our moving van back by 5:30 p.m.. Frankly, I think it was a mistake to let Chase do all the driving.
But we did return it, with 9 minutes to spare.
The next morning was hectic. Dylan was going to school with no shoes until we finally located a pair in the trunk of the car. And Rick woke up to find out he no longer had a razor. Mostly because I accidentally threw it out.
So if you saw a scruffy tired guy on the news, that was probably him.