Moving Day

Articles

Michael F Russell

Moving Day
Feb 1, 2004

This week is moving week. My wife and I finally have the house of our dreams (or at least what our dreams could afford) and we are preparing to get all of our things over to the new homestead. This time around though, we have decided to do something different. We have hired movers. I had promised my wife during the LAST move we made that we would not do any heavy lifting the next time we moved. Of course, I had my leg in a cast and was enjoying a Budweiser product at the time, but I was still doing alot of heavy lifting in spirit. (Or spirits, it was kind of hard to remember after a while...)

Anyway, the twist was...we didn't tell anyone we were hiring a moving company. We did let everyone know that we were buying a house and that we were going to be moving during the first week in February. But we decided to have a little fun to see what sort of excuses our relatives and friends could come up with to get out of helping during moving day.

So far, all of our friends who have children, suddenly have houses full of sick kids, and though they'd love to help us, they have to take care of their dear sweet children, who have everything from a cold, flu, SARS, Mad Cow Disease, Mad Chicken Disease, and a distubing cough that they had picked up the last time they were abducted by aliens.

Aunt 'Doris' and uncle 'Pedro' caught some sort of computer virus and were told to get plenty of rest, take two floppys every eight hours and to keep their aluminum hats on.

There was even one couple who went to some eastern European country, adopted some kid and exposed him to the chicken pox just to get out of moving.

Then we had the calls telling us that symtoms of frostbite, monkey bites, dog bites and cold feet were keeping them in bed under doctors orders until sometime in mid february.

One of our single friends took the time to go to Las Vegas to get married and would have loved to have helped us move but hurt his back carrying his new bride across the Guilded Elvis Altar Of Love (buffet and casino).

Both sets of parents have moved themselves to nursing homes and have taken up tamborine playing and drooling.

Our oldest son, age eleven, has decided to take his pet gerbil and join a flea circus.

And I think our dog is showing psychosomatic signs of mange.

Even our dear sweet ten month old child, my progeny, is complaining of tennis elbow and can't lift a thing.

We have even received calls from complete strangers who have stated that even though they don't know us and have never met us and will probably never even meet us, say that they are busy that day and can't help us move.

All in all, it's been a riot. My wife is going shopping that day to get some new things for the house and should be back by the time the last stick of furnature is in place. I have been elected to stay behind and supervise the movers.

But please take no pity on me, my shoulder hurts so I may have to use a beer can as a pointer.

------------

About the author: Mike Russell is a Ninja/fighter pilot/ astronaut with x-ray vision who likes to make up stuff about the author when his wife isn’t looking. Email Michael F Russell: mikerussellus@yahoo.com

Comment on this column in the forum.

Tell a friend about this site!

------------