Ahhhhh, the 80's.
Member's Only jackets, Swatch Watches, and the coming of the most heinous game ever conceived in the minds of men - the Rubik's cube.
How many care-free hours were ruined by the gut wrenching frustration of this so called puzzle?
How many calm, rational people were reduced to quivering bundles of nerves? We may never know.
Melodramatic much? I know, but seriously, that thing made me crazy! Half an hour and I would go into this crazy Yosemite Sam impersonation, "Gol-dern, rackin-frackin, whosie-whatsit...!"
It wasn't pretty.
Fast forward twenty years. My house has become a giant Rubik's Cube.
Every time we move it's a puzzle to get everything to fit just right. And when it does, it's magic!
Our current house, the nicest we've ever had, pure magic. Everything has it's place. Whether or not it's in that place depends upon my schedule or my mood. But I digress.
We are really enjoying our time here and the last thing we want to do is mix things up.
Enter the Rubik's Conundrum.
"I picked up all my stuff, the rest is hers!"
"Nu,uh! She got that stuff out - not me!!"
"Yeah, but it's on you're side of the room, so you have to pick it up!"
"You kicked it to my side on purpose!"
And on, and on, and on . . .
Sunday, the (ahem) day of rest, we spent all afternoon doing heavy lifting.
Half of our bedroom was pushed into the kitchen so the office could be moved to our bedroom.
The girls' bedroom was divided and Shelby was moved into the office.
One of the storage closets in the office was moved to Maddie's room.
(Each girl now has a clothes closet and a storage closet. Hafta keep it even ya'know!)
The furniture from our bedroom was moved from it's kitchen pit-stop into Shelby's room.
(The girls previously shared a dresser.)
And finally, the office book shelves found a new home in the living room.
Rubik's Cube. Destroy one location to fix another.
Three days later and we're finally finding places for the last few straggling items.
Who wants to totally rearrange a house just months shy of a move? (More on that later.)
Rubik's kinda love. The girls wanted their own rooms and we were willing to flip, twist and turn to make it happen.
Oh, come on! You know you'd do the same!
The diminutive foremen had a blast instructing us on how they wanted their new spaces set up.
Then came the ceremonial 'Hanging of The Posters'.
And, of course, as with any break-up, there's the nasty business of dividing the assets.
A verbal contract was quickly hammered out in pre-teen legalese.
*Maddie gets the TV.
*Shelby gets the computer.
*Maddie gets the dog bed.
*Shelby gets the iPod docking station.
To whit . . .
Afore mentioned . . .
Therefore, thereby and therewith . . .
Did I mention? On their very first night of independence . . .
the girls asked if they could sleep together.