Sold!

We just got from our selling closing, and we are now officially homeless. Ten months of prayer, cleaning, more prayer, and more cleaning are now officially successful. I might actually sleep tonight.

We have a medium-sized check in our figurative pockets. I wanted to go to a nice lunch, but 4BoyMom said no. She's making me a sandwich.

In about 2 hours, we'll go to our buying closing, hand over the check, and be no longer homeless.

Thank you all for your prayers.

Warmth

Tonight we ate at Fellini's on our way to the big VBS finale.

For those of you not from the South, or who for some other reason have never had kids in Vacation Bible School, the last night is a big closing number for the week. VBS usually has a theme, and the finale has a brief sketch to tie up the loose ends of whatever story arc was being used for that week, usually done by teenagers.

It's short, because lots of kids are in the audience, and the teenagers are more nervous than usual, because there are also adults in the audience for the first time. Then all of the kids get up and sing their songs. And I swear, it's just like the the end of The Music Man. Objectively, it must sound horrible. But there's over a hundred adults in the room, and half again as many kids, and not a single one of them is objective. We all love it.

Timothy hammed it up with his friends; he knows the words and motions but doesn't care, because he's ON STAGE, WITH HIS FRIENDS! Heaven help us all.

Stephen put in an earnest and excellent performance, singing every word, doing every hand motion. (He has more than made up for the 4-year old Kindergarten Christmas Concert where he spent the entire time with his hands over his ears, scowling at the audience during the song and then at his classmates during the frequent applause.)

Jonah was Jonah. Every face was a Silly Face, every remembered word was shouted or shrieked (thankfully, these were few). LIke a stopped clock, he would, during his gyrations, hit upon the same hand motions as everyone else. Imagine an early 80's Robin Williams routine where, instead of jokes, he spent 15 frantic minutes singing gospel versions of Harry Belafonte tunes. I laughed out loud for 5 straight songs.

Sam sat in my wife's lap and would sing the occassional line, which he had learned from his brothers. The lines Sam sang coincided nicely with the ones Jonah yelled.

Then we all went upstairs and ate ice cream. In one big room. Tthe kids ran around and screamed, while parents, grandparents, and neighbors stood or sat in little groups and yelled, "What? Say that again, please," at one another. Families filed out as kids fell down, fell asleep, threw up, or whenever parents or grandparents alike decided they've had enough. Collecting the children was hard, though, because all 400 of them were wearing the exact same shirt.

Anyway, that's a VBS finale. Chaos. With songs and sugar.

But on the way to the VBS finale, we had dinner at Fellini's. The boys must have been under an air vent, because they complained of being cold and tucked their arms and legs up into their shirts. Then the food came, and everyone forgot about being cold.

Except for Jonah. Halfway through dinner, my wife noticed a large shiny spot on his leg. She's a bright one, my wife, and she asked, "Did you put your pizza on your leg?"

To which Jonah replied, "But it warmed my leg up."

Packing

We close next Monday on both houses, selling at 11 and buying at 3. Two different attorneys, with two different firms, both in the same building here in Tucker. We like to keep our lawyers packed in tight, where we can watch 'em closely.

We move boxes next Tuesday, loading them into the back of the van and (hopefully) a pickup truck, and then driving them downhill and 150 yards or so down the street (I measured it on Google maps, yes I did).

We move more boxes next Wednesday morning, hopefully clearing them all out before we move furniture that evening. The goal is to get out of the way everything that can be handled by a weakling and his wife, and then have over some burly men (who will work for pizza) to move the rest.

Until then, we pack. Our artsy neighbor had redone just about every room in the house, and had brought over lots and lots of things to help: vases, mirrors, wall art, etc. All of that has been returned. Books are done, using up all of the boxes my parents gave us, all of the ones my wife's sister gave us, and even some we got from the wife of our new RUF campus minister. Our own wall hangings are packed, using the remaining boxes and leaving lots of little picture hooks on the wall that catch in my peripheral vision and get interpreted as a cockroach invasion. Next comes the kitchen. After that, who knows?

Sunday night, as we were packing one of the last of our existing freebie boxes, our next-door neighbor began taking stacks of broken-down moving boxes to the curb. He's got a new job in West Virginia, and they're moving next month (3/2 ranch in nice neighborhood, possible rental!) and his new company is providing moving services. So they were throwing out all their reserved boxes from the last move. We asked politely and got them all. God provides, even boxes.

A story or two, to liven things up a bit? Okay.

After we move, we're getting rid of cable (actually, we're getting rid of Dish Network, which we've had for 4 pleasant years now; excellent customer service). Our one-sentence explanation of why were moving has been "so that we can turn off the TV." We haven't broken the news to the boys yet, but we have been training them by turning off the TV in the afternoons and on weekends. This past Saturday was the first full Saturday of TV-less-ness.

By 11 AM Timothy, Stephen, and Jonah had been banned from the computer for the rest of the day.

Stephen and Jonah received their bans for rather pedestrian fighting. Timothy's ban was for being a little too cunning. He and Stephen had been playing an online Bionicle game all morning and not letting Jonah play. When the biggest two left the computer to play with their Game Boys on the couch, Jonah leapt (leaped?) at the chance (and the computer) and started his own game. Timothy complained loudly that Jonah had restarted the game (thereby losing Timothy's place in the game). Jonah played on, secure in his place as the occupier of the computer seat.

As Jonah played the game, he progressed further (farther?) than ever before and asked Timothy for guidance. Timothy guided him . . . into a hole that ended the game. Jonah, quick on the uptake, realized the betrayal and pitched a Jonah Fit (emotions are new and strong in a 5 year old). Jonah was calmed and reminded that the volume and intensity of his fit were inappropriate. Timothy was banned from video games for the rest of the day.

About 30 minutes later Stephen and Jonah got into a shouting and slapping match over a Power Ranger game and received their bans from the computer. Sam had a thoroughly enjoyable time playing Miffy games for the rest of the day.

Ok. Just one story. I have to pack.