Moving Day...Again...Part 2

I love my family.  I love Blake's family.

I do not love moving.

You know how they say "Man plans, God laughs"?  Well, God was roaring all day Saturday.  I had the whole move planned.  I knew what furniture I wanted moved and where I wanted it moved to.  I knew what I wanted packed, and where I wanted those boxes.  I knew what order we should hit our apartments in, and I knew what I wanted unloaded and where.

What I didn't plan on was 4 very opinionated, very enthusiastic men steamrolling over my pretty little plan with their dollies and packing tape.  One little girl, even a very loud, very stubborn, very frustrated, and foot-stamping little girl, could hardly be noticed by the all-mighty quadrangle of alpha males that found themselves bonding in my living room and garage.

It mattered not that I mentioned (yelled, even) that I only wanted my furniture moved out of my apartment since I didn't have to be out for another week.  Blake, Albert (his brother-in-law), Pat (Blake's dad), and my dad swept in like a tornado and grabbed whatever was within reach to toss in the truck.

Once at the house I managed to get the majority of the boxes and furniture in the rooms I meant to, and the guys (seeing my red face and sensing a breakdown of Mount Vesuvius proportions) actually listened to me.  There was the small incident where they tried to hook up my washer and found the hoses had corroded onto the taps (and leaked to boot).  My dad may have gotten a bit vigorous with his wrench and slightly bent the pipe out of the wall (plumber fixed it in about an hour yesterday).  There was also the hour spent putting together the new bed frame-no headboard or footboard, just a frame-a project I started that was quickly taken over by-I mean assisted by-Pat and dad.  There was a lot of measuring and hammering and debating and Corona (for me) involved.

My mother says it was fun for the two families, a real bonding experience.  I think they all bonded over my exploding head.

In any case, we're moved in (mostly) and beginning to unpack (a collaborative process that may take another year to complete).  My temper has mostly subdued (due to the fact that I got Blake to agree to hiring movers the next time no matter what-as much as I love volunteers, I'd rather save our relationship and spend money on people I can force to listen to me).  Now if I could just find a clear bit of couch to sit on, it might actually start to feel like home.