Hello everyone! Have you ever experienced the joys of moving? I have. Many times actually. My parents moved a lot. I inherited that from them. So I move a lot. I will be sharing some moving stories with you today, and in the future. These are real stories. Actually happened the way I tell them. Quite amazing really.
One time dad and I were moving some stuff. He had this nice antique wood stove. It was a rather heavy thing. It was at their cottage and they wanted it in town. Fine. I suggested putting it in the living room. It would look nice there, I said. That way we could back right up to the front door and go straight in. Mom didn’t like the idea. She wanted it in the basement. That meant using the back door. And going down steep stairs. Why not? Who likes to do things the easy way? So we lift it off the truck. This thing is heavy, I said. What was your first clue?, replied dad.
Down the stairs we went. Dad at the bottom. Got about half way. Phone rings. Naturally, said dad. No problem, I’ll get it, I said. I dropped my end on the stairs. Needed a break anyway. As I left I could hear dad screaming. He was still screaming when I got back. You’re noisy today, I said. Bonehead, was all he said. I hope that phone call was important, he continued. Don’t know, whoever it was hung up, I said. Dad put his head down. He did that a lot. Seems he had a bit of trouble holding the wood stove, so it slid down the stairs a bit. Hmm, put big gouges in the stairs, I said. No doubt, said dad. Should have put it in the living room, I said. Should have had someone else help me, he said. Strange.
Another time it was raining. We were trying to get the couch out the door. Not easy. It was a big couch. And we had to turn a corner in the entry to get out the door. Dad went first. The couch got stuck half way. Don’t stop, I said, the couch is getting wet. So am I, said dad. Took a while, but we finally got it out the door and in the truck. By that time it was thoroughly soaked. So was dad. Shouldn’t stand out in the rain like that, I said, might get sick. Oddly, he didn’t say anything, just put his head down.
We had the same problem with their big bed. Dad suggested covering it with plastic. Except we didn’t have any. One of us would have to go to the store and buy some. I convinced dad that would take too long. All we need to do is walk real fast, I said. As soon as we got out the door it really started to rain. The bed got soaked. So did dad. But he was wet already. Oddly I did not get very wet. Dad said he could fix that. Strange. There was still that metal bed frame. I suggested folding it. Guess dad didn’t hear me. His hand was in the way. He screamed. He did that a lot for some reason. Sorry, I said. Carry it yourself, he said. Fine.
Now, honestly, it wasn’t my fault he bent over to pick up something just as I swung the bed frame around to go out the door. Thunk! Hit dad on the head. He sat down. And groaned. Tired?, I asked. Bonehead, he said rubbing his head. Should be wearing your hard hat, I said. I shouldn’t be in the same room with you, he said. Strange. Good thing I’m here to help, I said. Yeah, I might not get hurt, he said. The joys of moving.
All for now, I hope everyone has a wonderful day and God bless!
Steve and Muffin.
© 2019 Steve McLeod.