We moved a few months ago at probably the worst time possible. It was the end of September and hubby was back at work after being off for the summer - not the ideal time to move. Our move went very quickly and ended up being a lot of people helping us cram a lot of stuff in boxes.
One of the things I like to do for the boys' birthdays is put together a compilation of the videos from their year. Matt's party is on Saturday, and I was sure these tapes were in a particular box.
The problem? No box.
On my "day off" I spent the entire morning trying to track down this box. I touched every single box in the house at least three times and it was no where to be found. I spent so much time on this particular project that I almost didn't get Paul to preschool on time, I forgot his shin guards for soccer, and was an overall crabby mom.
On the way home from soccer, I called Rob and begged him to go looking one more time. By the time I got home he had found my missing box. The box I though I was looking for had already been unpacked. The box for this set of tapes was in a box full of shoes.
Of course. They were in a shoe box after all.
1 comment:
Aargh! I can relate!
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