I have yet to tell you, however, just where we moved to. We are now living with my grandparents. A very educating experience it is, having three generations living under the same roof. I've gotten to know my grandfather especially a good deal better. He's hilarious.
His grandfather-ness has seemingly increased since we've been here, but that may be due to the fact that we've been spending a great deal more time with him. He is a very quirky person. He can't pass up a bargain, no matter how pointless. He loves to give gifts, even stuff as useless as a pair of (possibly secondhand, not sure) grippy socks. You know, the ones with the rubber stuff on the bottoms? Well, yeah. The other day, he walked into the family room/porch-place where me and my fam have been hanging out for most of the time, and threw this gray pair of grippy socks at me, without an intelligible word. See, I can't tell with him. His voice is kind of like below the register, too low for the human ear to hear, or so I thought. Yesterday, he muttered a string of what I thought to be incomprehensible gibberish, or possibly German, and my mum replied in perfect English, as though what he said had been the most normal thing in the world. Lol, I love my grandparents, they're the greatest, but the past week has been a very educational experience. Moving on!
Moving day itself was vaguely uneventful. Well, plenty happened, and ohhhh, was I completely stressed out, but that was entirely independent of moving. It had nothing to do with moving. It had everything to do with . . . never mind. Not important now.
But the actual process of moving, on that first day, was simple. Until mom packed me up into a truck full of men and shipped me over to the new house. And then, all at once, they did that instinctive thing, they asked the woman for direction. And I, not being my mother, had none. See, I had been sent over to supervise the setting up of the fridge and to load all of the food into it. But then the guys realized that they had forgotten the tools that it would take to put the door back on the fridge (Joy, what is it with moving and refrigerator doors? lol), so my job got put on hold. And I got to deal with man central. See, you know how when guys are alone with guys, they speak little and grunt much? I doubt the English language was really used by anyone but me that whole time. Well, me and my uncle, when he decided to comment to me that, once we got rid of the 'creepy old lady' feel of the house, it would be just fine. And they talked about Chuck Freaking Ray Norris. Eeehhh, a story for another day.
Me and my dad tend to go at it whenever there is a move in the process. He gets all monosyllabic and I get all high-pitched and the end result is chaos. He tends to just be completely DONE with moving and ready to give up on organization, and organization is my favorite part of moving and it just doesn't end well.
On top of that, Anne decided to be little miss attitude-ey teenager (she's nine) and treat me like a child (I'm fifteen. Obvious problem), so we were going at it too.
The boys were . . . well . . . the boys. And on top of that, Ms. Diane was . . . never mind. So pretty much the only person I wasn't aggravated at that day was Mom. Well, I was aggravated at her too, because she was purposefully taking advantage of my frazzled nerves (frazzled over Ms. Diane's . . . never mind) and make me stressed out. She thought it was funny. But that was all in good fun, and I wasn't really mad at her.
And then the second day of moving came around. Everybody's bad attitudes from the previous day had stewed over night, and gotten decidedly worse. I had absolutely no patience left, so I fell to my default of just not speaking. I closed up like a turtle, and became the monosyllabic one. Until Joy came over.
Around three, her parents dropped her off. Poor her, she bore the brunt of my bad attitude for several hours. Not that I treated her bad because of it (at least, I don't think I did), but she just had to deal with me still being in turtle mode.
And then everybody else went to bed. And the turtle came out of her shell. And blabbered Joy's ear off. Sorry, girl, and thanks for being there that day. It was just so nice to have somebody who actually wanted to hear what I had to say, and was willing to listen to me, and wasn't in a rotten mood. And I think she's the one who got me through moving.
So now it's over. We are officially completely through at the old house. It's empty. It's clean. We're done.
Mr. O'Malley had to go to the animal shelter, because there was nothing we could do to keep him where we're at now. Very sad, but I'm trying not to think about it, 'cause there's nothing I can do about it.
We're settled in, or at least settling. I'm not sure when exactly reality set in, but this is life now. And it's okay.
And now I must be going. Stuff calls.
Have a great day!!! :)
No comments:
Post a Comment