Moving Day

This is a little something I wrote last year when my brother was moving.

It’s moving day. Not for me. My brother and his wife are moving into their first house. I love moving day. Although again…not for me.
Moving day is like a family reunion. Your friends and family come over. Everyone looks like they’re ready to raise a barn wearing their old shoes, sweatshirts and jeans. All the cars and trucks pull up and people clear out their trunks and back seats so we can jam your stuff in there.

Then comes the good part. We get to go through all your stuff. We see everything you own. We know what is hiding in your couch when we pick it up and cookie crumbs fall out. We see what’s in the back of your freezer you forgot was there and notice that your movies are not alphabetized. We haul boxes back and forth… and then we start to goof off. We fake like we’re going to toss your favorite mirror over the balcony to get it down the stairs faster. We joke that we’re going to ride your mattress down three flights of stairs. We put your winter hats on and make fun of your ties. Volunteer helpers are never very serious. We don’t care that much because all of our stuff is at home waiting for us to come relax. There’s no sense of urgency there.

I like watching the men on moving day. Even men who normally aren’t very into the “man” stuff like hunting or watching football always seem to walk a little taller on moving day. The women defer to them to take the washer and dryer up or down the stairs and we let them carry twice as many items as us while we scurry back and forth. It’s not that we can’t do it. I mean, I moved myself and two kids twice as a single Mom by myself. I can carry a bookcase as well as anyone, but frankly I’d rather watch the guys do it. They’re very proud of themselves.

For some reason, someone always brings a small kid on moving day. Without fail, someone will bring a three year old along like it’s going to help. People hand the short one something like a roll of paper towels to carry to the truck and back and make them think they’re helping. And as darling as they are…I always wonder why someone thought it would be a good idea to bring them along.

Then before you know it, moving day is over and we’re all standing around waiting for our free pizza. I kinda wish I was moving now.