On the Road Again

The thing I'm discovering about moving four Boys out of the nest is that for the first several years, they do return. Yay! They bring back the laughter and the bad puns and the music and the footsteps on the stairs in the wee hours of the morning, and I could not be happier.

They also bring back the stuff.

Over the past year Husband and I have unconsciously relaxed into the spaces that had been filled with the clothes and books and computers and guitar amps that surround the Boys. This week all that stuff was cleared out of the off-shore apartments and returned to the House on the Corner of Drainage Street and Halfway Down the Hill.

The picture above doesn't look so bad, does it? Just a queen-sized bed and a two-wheeled dolly in the back of the pick-up I drove home from two states away. But look closer. Peer through the back window. This is a different perspective:

As he packed the pick-up Husband was kind enough to leave me space to sit and drive. Every single remaining inch of the extended cab is stuffed with, well, stuff. I wedged myself into it like an astronaut entering a space capsule. Add to this two additional cars in similar states of pack-age and you have the Beverly Hillbillies caravan that propelled our trek back to the nest.

We are klassy, with a capital K.