Now it was 8:30, and we were all hungry, especially Sam, who had begun hollering, "Go car!" when the door opened. We decided to head for Max and Erma's, a burger joint. Sam was thrilled to sit between Grandma and Grandpa.

   

I had a barbecued chicken salad. It was very, very tasty, and it was one of the main reasons I wanted to go here in the first place. Yum for barbecue ranch dressing!

On the way back to the house, I stopped at Meijer for a few things, including beer to bribe Eric's coworkers, who were helping us move the next day (and who all would decide that they didn't really want any, leaving us, the non-beer-drinkers, with a freaking case of Labatt's Blue in our fridge).

Home again, past ten o'clock. I took one very sleepy little boy upstairs to bed, where he went down without a fuss and without even wanting to nurse. The guys had gone over to the old apartment, and when I came back downstairs, they arrived shortly thereafter with more furniture to unload. I nearly broke my back helping to lift that dresser, which was built in a time when furniture was built to last (apparently beyond muscle and bone).

   

It was 11:48. Every bit of my body and soul screamed for bed. I swigged a Diet Coke, looked around, and then obliged myself, full of the knowledge that just as much work awaited me on the morrow.

Moving sucks.