Boy#2 snapped this picture yesterday, and I'm considering having an enlargement of it framed for hanging over where the fireplace would be if we had a fireplace. It may not be a priceless work of art, but its symbol value is significant: The moving truck is loaded, ready to hit the road, and Husband and I are two states away.
Yes. Instead of jumping into Pearl and flurrying off to help Boy#4 move, we waited for occasional updates as Two flew into Texas to provide muscle and moral support for his younger brother's transition to Oklahoma.
Frankly, I wasn't sure they could do it without me. Oh, not for the muscle. (A perk of having four sons? You carry a ton of groceries into the house over the years, but when it comes to moving furniture there are many manly men to say "I'll get that, Mom.") My job has always been carrying the emotional baggage so I prepped Two by text with phrases that would be useful during a day that was sure to be long, hot, and irritating,
We're doing fine.
That's not a problem.
Okay, that's a problem but we can figure it out.
Really, we're doing fine.
Man, that stinks.
They texted from the hotel last night, after they had checked out of the apartment, locked the truck, and cleared urban traffic. I don't know if any of my helpful phrases had to be used, but they were still speaking to each other and even seemed to be enjoying the experience.
I may have been made superfluous, and that's fine.