I was pulling up to my parent’s street when I saw it.
It was a sign.
No literally, it was a sign. It said, “Moving Sale, this Saturday” and it was hanging right in front of their street. I fought the urge to burst into tears. I fought it valiantly but, whatever. I wiped one lone tear away with the back of my hand.
My parents are moving away. It’s kind of the reason for all of this other stuff. In the hustle and bustle of everything else that has been going on I keep forgetting that point.
My parents are moving away.
When I think about it, I’ve never lived more than 10 minutes away. In 2002 when I first moved out on my own I was still kind of right around the corner (well, there were like 15 corners between us). When I bought my first house a year later, I was even more right around the corner (this time there were only like, five corners between us).
Even now when I make my morning trek from my house to their house to spend the day with my grandmother I often think about how we are only about a song and a half on the radio away from one another. Two songs if I hit one of the five red lights that separate us.
Once they move out, there will be dozens of songs between us, and probably a hundred or more red lights. I won’t be able to just hop in my car and run over to check out kittens in the back yard. I won’t be able to call and say that my toilet isn’t working and for the love of god send help!!!!
What if I need them?
Alright, what I need is to get a grip. You’re a grown ass woman, Lauren. Get it together.
In the next few days everything is going to start to change. Our lives are going to turn upside down and then right side up again. We’ll move from our house into my parent’s house. My parents will move into their new place up north. My long suffering grandmother will watch it all from her favorite spot on the couch. And hopefully my daughter will be sitting next to her, quiet and not at all underfoot as we try and move one entire house out and another entire house in, in just a few short days.
Wishful thinking, I know.
Approximately seven days left under this roof.
***The blog is on hiatus during the move. Unless something exceptionally hilarious or noteworthy happens between now and then I don’t expect to poke my head out from under the pile of boxes until mid-September.
So, be sure to follow me on Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/lakewidotnet), because I’m certain that I’ll have time to post mocking pictures of how many comic books my husband has or my collection of wine glasses. Seriously, WHY ARE THERE SO MANY WINE GLASSES?!
Or Twitter (https://twitter.com/Lakewidotnet) if I can ever figure out how to say something in less than 140 characters, which is highly unlikely because girlfriend likes characters.
Or on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/lakewi), where let’s be real, you should already be following me anyway.
Until next time!
Oh the feels! I cant believe this is happening, I’m so…so…I dont know what, feelings are new for me. Also, I do not know anything about this pickle meat of which you speak. Love you!
It’s amazing, you would love it!! Next time we are together we will make it and bask in the bacony, pickley, joy of it all.
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