Moving – Home Sweet Home

 

 

It was about 3pm and I was sitting on my couch in the new ‘Dingy Pit’ apartment in Toronto.  The movers were still bringing up the last few loads, and I was contemplating getting up and doing something useful.  It felt so good to just sit down!  Mom was being her typical self, bopping around the apartment with a cloth and cleaning spray, while Dad was tinkering with something that required a power drill. 

 

For the 400th time that day my father said that they were never moving again.  Even with the help of 4 strong movers the day was quite the ordeal.  Besides battling for an elevator and attempting to fit everything into the elevator, there was the slight problem of my clothes.  Apparently I have a lot of clothes.  I certainly don’t think so.  I have an adequate amount - enough to get me by.  But I guess 5 large wardrobe boxes is a lot for a single female.

 

The movers were joking that they moved entire families with less clothing.  

 

So, I got up off the couch and decided to start to unpack the wardrobe boxes.  My bedroom was lined with boxes, and the room looked like a scene from David Bowie’s movie ‘Labyrinth’.  I felt like Jennifer Connelly searching for her stolen baby brother as I dodged falling objects and moved through my bedroom.  I, however, was searching for my box of shoes and purses.  What’s this?  Three boxes marked shoes?  Well well.. Maybe I DO have a shopping problem.   

 

I quickly took the Exacto knife to the wardrobe boxes and began hanging up their contents.  The closet was smaller then I remember.  I didn’t know if I could fit all six boxes in there.  After one and a half boxes things were getting pretty crammed.  I finished off box number two, and turned to start on number three, when I heard a cracking sound.  

 

My closets in waterloo were large, but not huge.  I figured I could easily get most of my clothes in my bedroom closet, with just a few going into the second bedroom or the front closet.  Once I adjusted my Toronto closet’s contents a little, I made room for one more box. (It’s amazing what a little cramming can accomplish!).  Just as I opened box three I heard that cracking noise again. 

 

Then the closet rod fell down. 

 

Then the movers came into the bedroom with my dresser and needed me to get out of the way.

 

Then my father came in and asked what the noise was.

 

Then my mother (cleaning rag in hand) came in and asked what everyone was doing back here.

 

I looked at my clothes on the floor of the ‘Dingy Pit’ apartment and sighed.  I'm glad I washed the floor before we moved in.  I wouldn’t want to wear anything that came anywhere near anything the Bumpi had once touched.  Just the thought of having Bumbi germs on all of my clothes made me cringe. 

                                                    

What would Jennifer do in ‘Labyrinth’?  I imagined David Bowie dancing around in his ugly white leotard singing “Dance Magic Dance” with all of the ugly goblins while Jennifer battled obstacle after obstacle.  So what’s next for me?  Are the movers going to break into song?  Is my bedroom floor going to transform into a stink-swamp?

 

After piling all of my clothes back into the wardrobe boxes and saying goodbye to the movers, Dad set off to ‘Crappy Tire’ to save the day with some new closet brackets.  That night he managed to solve quite a bit of my little problems with his drill and tool box.  I guess he remembered an incident in Waterloo where I attempted to install a light fixture in the kitchen, because he immediately jumped up saying “No no Leslie, I can install the light” when I took a step toward the fixture. I didn’t think I was THAT useless.  The light always worked!

 

When midnight rolled around Mom suggested that she stay with me for a few days to help out with the unpacking.  We said good bye to Handy Man Dad and promptly went to bed.  It was going to be a long week.