The Last of It - an Open Letter to my Mom

Today - in about half an hour - I'm moving the last of the boxes into storage. I'll still have the empties here for the time being, and I still have to go through the ones already in storage and have another game of "prune out the junk". And there are four boxes here still, but they contain books and therefore must be gone through. But the project itself will be Officially Done.

My mom, at Lizzy's birthday lunch

I can see my mom, shaking her head and smirking and thinking about how lame I am as she reads this. She's right. It is lame that I have not gotten it all done already. I'm not even making excuses about tooth pain and fatigue and school and job hunting. I'll own it; I'm lazy about this kind of thing. Let's all move on now.

It'll be good to have it gone though, even with the few things still here.
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On a more positive - or at least funnier - note... my mom sent me this Instant Message while babysitting Lizzy today. They made snickerdoodles and, well... the IM speaks for itself:

so, i told lizzy not another cookie, she put the edge in her mouth anyway, i took it, she looked crestfallen and said she really needed it because <thinking, thinking, thinking> "I don't have enough cinnamon in me"