We are in the transition phase of our move right now, between houses.
Or, putting it less charitably, we’re currently homeless.
Therefore we are bumming off of– I mean visiting –relatives in Alabama.
We had some trouble getting our orders processed back in Hawaii. (That’s a long and boring story that boils down to: the Army is no good at pushing paper even though the process of paper-pushing is about 75% of the Army’s actual job.)
As a result of this delay, we received our paperwork for moving late in May, and could not schedule the movers until late June. So the kids and I left my husband behind in Hawaii to supervise the moving process.
We’d been away for a couple of weeks when Little Girl begged to talk to her father on the phone.
“Aw, how cute!” I thought. “She misses her daddy.” I gave her the phone.
“Daddy?” she said. “Is my room okay? How’s my stuff doing? Did the movers pack it yet?”
Oh well. She misses her daddy, sure. But she misses her stuff more!