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.

2 comments:

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.