#112 Packing & Moving

Moving: The biggest pain for any person. As a child it means leaving all your friends (even if you’re moving 2 blocks away—it ruins the memorized 8 minute bike ride to your best friends’ house). When going to college, it means packing away your life into compact bags and boxes, making life decisions on whether to bring ALL your hooded sweatshirts or make room for your stylish pajama pants. And post-college it means sweating through a hangover by moving broken furniture that should be on the corner with a “For Free” sign. But never free, any time you have to move or pack, Dad is there to answer the call.

Dad’s have an uncanny ability to make anything fit in a suitcase, box, trunk or drawer. “There, the bag is full” you state as you wipe off the sweat. “Not quite,” as Dad goes in for good measurement, simply rolling up your tshirts, shifting a few trinkets and he magically has made your three favorite jerseys fit for the move.

And when Dad isn’t making everything fit into your moving boxes, he is busy throwing out his back by lifting your non-flat screen TV. Dad will move all furniture in an inefficient effective manner. That spiral staircase? Yeah Dad is moving your dresser down that. Your tempurpedic mattress? Yeah, Dad will be dragging that to the U-haul.

When the truck is finally packed with boxes, lamps and bed frames, Dad takes over his duty as transporter. Jason Statham couldn’t drive a U-haul better than Dad. No mirrors? No problem—Dad will weave in and out of alleys, six corner intersections and under trees as if he has driven that automobile his whole life. 

And when everything is finally moved, Dad will give you the slight nod of “you owe me.” And while Dad will complain about “the time he helped you move” for the next five Christmas’, you know that Dad secretly lives for it. 

                     

#35: Guesstimated Time of Arrivals

“WE’VE BEEN TRAVELING FOREVER.” You stammer while pouting, rolling your eyes and shaking all limbs while holding in your bladder. “CMON DAD! I’VE HAD TO PEE FOR AT LEAST AN HOUR! ARE WE THERE YET?” As soon as you say it, you know the answer: “We’re almost there” Dad instinctively quips back.

This is Dad’s go to answer when it comes to time measurement. Dad may not ask for directions or read maps, but trust him, you are almost there. No matter what, the destination is “just around the corner” or “only a block away.” Dad knows this answer holds you over for at least another 15 minutes. And by the next time you ask, Dad gives the same response. Okay…maybe it actually is a block away now.

Dad does these quick and short term answers not only to ease your urgent bladder needs or impatient self, I can only play squishsquashapplesauce in the backseat for so long. But Dad also gives these answers to ease his mind because if you’re always almost there, you can’t be lost.

Whether on foot or in the car on the family roadtrip, Dad can guesstimate how much longer until the next bathroom break, rest area, or final destination by analyzing the horizon. And don’t worry, you’ll be able to stop playing the license plate game soon because you’ll be there shortly.

#24 Piggyback Rides

"I can't possibly take another step" you exclaim while dragging your feet across the sidewalk as if it were quicksand pulling you down. "We've been walking for miles!" You protest. In reality, you have walked about 50 yards but it has taken 10 minutes because of your consistent complaining. That is when you see the second best image (The first being new presents under the christmas tree) in your life: Dad is bent over crouching, signaling that He will give you a piggyback.

Your legs instantly feel refreshed as you run full speed and jump into Dad's back and link your arms around his neck. "Oooooffffff" Dad breathes out for his last normal breath for the next 20 minutes. Dad lurches you higher up his back for support and to stop you from choking him. That's when you get the view.

You can see EVERYTHING. Mountain tops have nothing on you. You see the cotton candy vendor across the park. You see poor little kids having to hold their moms hands as they walk. You see Dad's bald spot. There's the set of seagulls all in a bunch again that you just chased away. (Time to teach them another lesson). This is the best feeling in the world.

Meanwhile, Dad is feeling the backsweat form, the constant gasping for air due to your strangling arms, and kicking into his love handles (your legs have fallen asleep so they dangle and kick furiously). Dad is willing to do this for you though because Dad understands how vital it is to get to the destination. It validates Dad as a navigator as well as proving to mom that He doesn't need to go to the gym because He's still got it.

Sadly, you reach the destination and Dad must set you down. "No! Just a little bit longer!" You yell as you're torn from Dad's back. Dad pulls out his Neosporin from the fannypack to address the scratches you left on his neck. Your legs feel like Jell-O and it seems you forgot how to walk. You look up to Dad with those puppydog eyes as he is rubbing his shoulders. Dad looks down and can't resist. "Okay, hop back on." Life is good again.