We’ve been in Nashville for just more than one week. This time last Tuesday, the moving crew we’d hired to unpack our Uhaul had already wrapped up their end of things, and John’s parents and my mom were heaven-sent as they helped us start ripping open boxes and finding places for everything to go.
The kitchen was especially tricky—my mom offered to pay the movers if they stopped bringing in kitchen boxes (and that was after we’d already pared down our combined kitchen stuff prior to moving). I’d estimate we had about 15 in all devoted to the kitchen. Yet, somehow, they made it work and, most importantly, fit. I say “they” because I can take no credit for any of that magic our moms worked in there; if it had been just John and I unpacking ourselves, I can guarantee there’d be at least nine kitchen boxes yet to unload.
Having grownup grownups there (I know I’m an adult but parents seem like realer adults) was such an amazing thing. Plus, they all got to meet for the first time since John and I began dating about two years ago. It was a long time coming, and I’m relieved that both of our parents know now we come from good people, something I’m sure they believed, but it’s nice to have had everyone meet finally.