Moving On

So it's over. The Move, that is. It's Done. And believe it or not, we're almost unpacked. In case you are wondering, moving with a pregnant wife (nine months) and three year-old daughter is difficult. But... my wife is a champ. (I hope she reads this). She unloads, folds, puts away, carries, cleans, lifts, and scoots. There are times when I have to say:

"Sit down."

"Relax."

"Take it easy."

"Stop lifting things."

"Your doctor's going to kill you."

And that's usually when Blondie (three year-old daughter) chimes in:

"Daddy, be quiet."

"Daddy, stop that."

"Daddy, leave Mommy alone."

"Daddy, your breath stinks."

And that's when I have no choice but to defend myself:

"My breath smells better than yours." (It never does)

"You're short." (internal dialogue: "But adorable")

"Mommy and I are talking." (technically it's not a conversation, so we're not really "talking", we're saying things out loud)

"I'm gonna get you." (and the chase ensues)

And that's when Blondie says:

"Do it again" (37 times in a row)

_____________________________________

Running: Not much lately (I blame The Move)
Reading: "
Writing: "

On an interesting note, our new house (first house) has a Bomb Shelter. A real subterranean, steel-reinforced, nuclear proof (we'll hopefully not be testing that one) Bomb Shelter. I'll be posting pictures of it soon. It's 200 square feet of underground, sound proof space with two entry/exit points. It was built in 1961 on the cusp of the Cuban Missile Crisis. My ideas for it are:

Writing Lair
Man Cave
Storage
Wine Cellar
-or-
All of those combined.

HGTV anyone?