First, Brayden, traumatized last night when she realized the guys packed away her Tamigatchi (sp?) and it’s certainly going to die in its cardboard box before we get our household goods shipped to us in two weeks. Traumatized even worse this morning when she realized they packed away her half-eaten box of Lucky Charms and she had to eat left-over donuts for breakfast. Truly, her life is a disaster.
Second, several of you have asked why are we feeding our movers and packers? (Today’s lunch was much cheaper, as there were only three of them, thank you very much.) Um ….. I don’t know. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do?? At least, that’s what we’ve always been told, starting with the “How to be an Air Force Officer and an Officer’s Wife 101” seminar that Blaine and I were required to take before he was commissioned and graduated. I know all our military friends buy *their* movers breakfast and lunch, as well, so maybe it’s just a big ole’ conspiracy by the government??? At least I *think* they all pony up for lunch ---- military wives reading this, you buy your people lunch, right? And hey, if a hundred bucks in fast food expenses makes them indebted to us, and means they will be kinder and gentler with our household goods, then it’s money well spent as far as I’m concerned. Sort of like insurance. Insurance in a Sonic bag. (Seriously? You people don’t buy your packers and movers lunch??? I am SO not considering that for my next career move, then. Well, that and the fact it looks like hard work and I avoid hard work whenever possible.)
Thirdly, to Olivia, I think you missed my point. Or I think maybe I didn’t state myself clearly. I was a WEENIE when we moved the first time. Small-town, small-mind, completely intimidated by anything that was different or out of “my” ordinary. It’s not something I’m proud of, and thank goodness through twenty years of moving around, my horizons have been broadened, but I can at least laugh about it now. Sorry you didn’t see the humor in it.