humor

Trash Days Prior To A Move

When you are preparing to move with 33 years of marriage and 4 grown kids who have moved out of the house, trash days are like holidays. How? The days leading up to that day are full of preparation and excitement. I cheer on my wife. I set unreachable goals, and I count the number of trash days leading up to the move. All normal behavior, right?

When the move was a “maybe” or “eventually”, the pace was much more casual. As the switch flipped into the “yes” column, the strategy changed. No longer was I content to create a bag or two of trash per week. The pace was accelerated and the goals were not limited. Based on my desire to stay ahead, the goals were immediately raised as soon as they were reached. If we had 6 bags of trash for Tuesday’s trash day, I would start campaigning for one more. (If 7 was reached, I would raise it again.)

With two trash days per week, consistency has been a problem. The weekend efforts allow us to have a handful or more bags on Tuesday. The Friday pick up day is limited to big items or stuff where sorting isn’t necessary. Some of my old work stuff was not patiently explored. It was dumped into trash bags with no regard to specific value. “If it is over 10 years old and in a box that was part of our previous move, then it is dead to me.” Maybe a little over-dramatic, but a pre-moving purge is not for the overly-sentimental.

My wife is charged with the sentimental choices. If the kids might like it, she puts it in a group chat for them to comment on. If none of them like it and it seems too valuable to throw out, it is posted on the local gifting exchange. This has caused a stream of strange individuals creeping towards and front door to acquire their “one level above trash” item. (They are placed outside the front door. Our interaction is typically limited to watching them park in front of our mailbox and rapidly slink up the sidewalk. One incident was especially funny. A china cabinet we had no use for was gifted, but the husband picked up a dresser instead. Dutifully, the husband returned and made the swap.) Granted, Goodwill may be the ultimate home for some of these items. That way, the item might still be sent to the trash but our consciouses will be clear.

As we swing into the final week before the trucks show up, a few key areas of the house designated as “kid” areas have been reserved. After our daughters arrive today and tomorrow for our early Thanksgiving this weekend, they have been given the request to make their keep/throwout decisions by Thursday evening. That way, I can make sure all bags of trash can be ready for pickup by 8:00. And, if any trash is found buried in one of the remote secret passageways of our earthly castle, I can still get it out on moving day, Tuesday, next week.

Leap Into the Unknown: A Hilarious Yet Heartfelt Recap of the Leap Year That Changed Everything

(While my anonymous assistant captured some memories of our last leap day/year, he didn’t realize how special it was having our family living under the same roof for one last 6 month period.)

Ah, February 29, 2020. The leap day that leaped us right into what would affectionately (or not so affectionately) come to be known as the “Covid-times.” Little did we know, as we added that extra day to our calendars, that we were also about to add an unprecedented chapter to the story of our lives. Here’s a humorous, yet reflective look back at the transition into a world where “unprecedented” became everyone’s least favorite buzzword, and toilet paper became more valuable than gold.

The Great Indoors

Remember when “staying in” was for the introverts and the “Netflix and chill” crowd? Oh, how the tables have turned. Suddenly, our homes became our offices, our gyms, and our Michelin-star restaurants (if you squinted hard enough at your burnt toast). We became masters of our own little universes, each day a journey from the bedroom to the living room, with exotic vacations to the forgotten lands of “The Backyard.”

Zooming Through Life

Before 2020, Zoom was just a sound effect from a comic book or a feature on a camera. Fast forward a few weeks, and it’s where we lived our lives—business meetings in the top half, pajama party in the bottom half. We learned the hard way that “mute” is both a feature and a lifestyle, and that “Sorry, I was talking on mute” is the modern-day equivalent of “My dog ate my homework.”

The Fashion Revolution: Pajamas to the Rescue

Speaking of fashion, let’s have a moment of silence for our work clothes, who watched in despair from the closet as their casual cousins took center stage. Ties became relics of a bygone era, high heels gathered dust, and bras… well, let’s just say they went on an extended vacation. In the Covid-times, comfort reigned supreme, and if you managed to wear socks that matched, you were already ahead of the curve.

The Toilet Paper Chronicles

In what will surely be a puzzling chapter for future historians, the early days of the pandemic saw a global obsession with hoarding toilet paper. Supermarket aisles became battlegrounds, and a roll of two-ply was worth its weight in gold. Looking back, it’s hard not to chuckle at the absurdity of it all—our civilization’s advanced technology and sophisticated cultures, momentarily upended by the pursuit of bathroom tissue.

Learning to Laugh

Despite the challenges, or perhaps because of them, we learned the importance of laughter. We shared memes like they were going out of style (which, let’s face it, they never will), and found humor in the most unexpected places—from Zoom backgrounds gone wrong to the great sourdough bread baking saga. In a world turned upside down, laughter became our universal language, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there’s a lightness to be found.

As we reflect on the leap day that leaped us into the Covid-times, it’s with a mixture of nostalgia and disbelief. We’ve come a long way since those early days of uncertainty and toilet paper hoarding. And while we may not miss the lockdowns or the endless days of isolation, we’ll always cherish the lessons learned, the laughs shared, and the resilience discovered along the way. Here’s to leaping into the future, whatever it may hold, with the same courage, humor, and adaptability that got us through the leap year that changed everything.