Monday, October 8, 2007

600 Miles

We clean the basement!

It's not a glamorous task, but someone's got to do it. Paolo the Pool Boy is nowhere to be found, so it's on the DNB and I to straighten, unpack, and organize. We work for hours and hours, until just one box remains untouched - taped shut, it's the only thing standing between me and an afternoon of leisure.

It's labeled in the DNB's handwriting: "sandpaper and rachet set." What it contains is a mixture of dryer lint, used napkins, and crushed cardboard.

"Are you telling me," I ask in amazement, "That you sealed a box of trash . . . and then we moved it all the way from Indiana?"

He gazes down into the box. "Huh," he responds, not at all surprised.


dana said...

I'm not surprised either. In fact, I'll probably do that when I move to Michigan, too...

Kyle said...

I helped MOVE that box! You can make my back injury lawsuit checks out directly to me.