I don’t know what day of the move we are on—I’ve lost count—but today was, by far, the worst day. Mike was off, so we decided to tackle the really hard stuff…the appliances.
The first load consisted of a few dressers and the work bench in the garage.
I really did try to help. I just don’t have the upper body strength of a man. And it was really cold today. My hands were too cold to grip things.
My husband called me incompetent to move things.
I suppose my feelings were hurt at first. I mean, I have actually moved quite a bit so far. I have packed things in baskets, small boxes, and tote bags to cart them over to the new house. I have made multiple trips each day, and I have organized things as I do. But the more I thought about his comment, the more I realized it worked in my favor. How could it be bad to be classified as too incompetent to help with something you would rather not help with? I was suddenly off the hook with regard to the heavy stuff. After calling me incompetent, he could hardly expect me to help.
I did actually help with the washer and dryer—if you can call what I did, “helping.” But as my mother used to say, “Beggars can’t be choosers,” and I was the only help there was tonight.
The good news is, my son Spencer will be helping tomorrow. He should be infinitely more competent than I. And I can do what I’m good at…giving orders.
Yes, I think that will work out splendidly.
Until the next time…I’ll be celebrating one year of blogging!