On the morning of moving day we got up, got dressed and started…well…moving. Before we moved in we’d been storing all of the furniture hand-me-downs and houseware items we’d been accumulating in my in-laws’ garage. Being that this was the case my father-in-law was all too excited about being able to actually park cars in his garage again so naturally he wanted to start moving these items first. While I’m moving things like glasses and dinnerware, Superman (btw my hubby will here by be known as “Superman” from now on…so get used to it), his brother and his dad start moving the heavy stuff. While on my way back to the garage from loading something I hear an agonizing yell. It was my Superman!
I immediately run into the garage to see him writhing in pain on the garage floor, holding his leg. Apparently while attempting to move part of a bed frame there were two very heavy glass slabs leaning against it, covered in blankets. Superman didn’t see it and therefore they both fell onto his leg, he narrowly managed to save his toes from being crushed in the process. I then hover on top of him and try to comfort him as best I can.

Then my father-in-law comes up with the great idea to get him off of the dirty garage floor and into the house. We place him on the couch, elevate his leg and I go and make him an icepack. His father then proceeds to ask him a few medical type questions, ya know, like…can you move your toes?…can you feel this?…does this hurt? Superman answers all his questions and to me the prognosis looks good until my father-in-law stands up and says very nonchalantly, “Yeah, we should probably take you to the emergency room,” and then just walks back into the garage.
Um…WHAT?!
I should probably mention that according to my mother-in-law, my father-in-law has a bit of a preoccupation with the emergency room. At the slightest stomach ache or muscle cramp he thinks that a trip to the emergency room just goes without saying.
I remembered this tidbit of information and immediately calmed down. Superman did not need to go to the emergency room, he just needed to stay off his leg…which meant that he couldn’t drive us to our new house. No biggie, I would just have to drive us. Did I mention that I only have a learner’s permit (Hey! Don’t judge me, I’m workin on it!)? So of course being a man, Superman insisted that he was totally fine to drive and of course we all know that he totally wasn’t, so I drove. Do you know how scary it is for a new driver to drive behind a flat-bed truck carrying furniture and an entire king size bed where the mattresses are swaying as if they’re gonna go any minute? Ooh, ooh, I do! I do! It is pretty darn scary lemme tell ya.

However, I managed to keep up, not get pummeled by any mattress missiles and get me and my injured Superman to our new home safe and sound. And, as a reward for reading this long post….you get to look at pictures of our home from start to finish!! Yayy!!
Our "Sold" sign and me in heels trying not to kill myself on the rocks
Who knew one could be so happy to own so much dirt?
More of our dirt




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