"We're just going full-send with the Christmas stuff."

I'm holding one end of a bookshelf with both hands, trying not to scrape my knuckles on the door frame. Between the moving company I ran during college, and  all the subsequent moving I've done for myself over the years, I've busted enough of my knuckles that way to fulfill my lifetime quota. We're done with that now. No more.

Across from me, my friend is sidestepping into the room so we can finagle this thing around the corner. He and his wife are expecting, and tonight we're shuffling around some furniture so this room can become a nursery. He's telling me how life feels a bit like a never-ending game of Tetris right now. They're in the full swing of baby prep, so the Tetris game he's referring to has to do with organizing clothes, accessories, and storage containers. But, ya know... in a way that keeps their space livable, without  also making that stuff inaccessible. It's a good strategy; seems simple enough, anyway. However, between the baby's impending arrival, the furniture/storage bin shuffle du jour, and the upcoming holidays, they've (very understandably) decided that any unearthed Christmas decorations are just simply staying out.

Sliding our feet across the carpet with the finesse of an Olympic curling team, we plop the bookshelf by the window. I cast him a sideways glance and he shrugs, then nods. I smile and nod back.

That'll do.

And that Christmas decorations thing...

That, well, uh... that's smart.

Having just moved, myself, I'm thinking I'm going to steal this packing/unpacking method from them.

So, I guess, let the festivities begin?

 

* * *

Right? Right.

onward.

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