The Packers – Day 3. Final day…coupled with some police activity.

So, it’s Friday before we move. Last day of packing.

I really can’t imagine what else is left to go…other than our beds, of course.

I mean, I was already working on the painted hardwood floor in my office surrounded by dustbunnies and fun little items that had taken up shop underneath my desk, behind my filing cabinet, next to my printer cart, etc. I would have swept or vacuumed them up, but you guessed it – no broom and no vacuum. Gone! Kenny was working on the floor in our bedroom, which was at least carpeted.

In hindsight, we should have taken the day off. I love how we both try EXTREMELY hard to keep our normal lives going. We’re kind of mean to ourselves – we should have given us a break!

Today was just. nuts. NUTS. Naturally, we overbooked ourselves:

  • One of our cars was in for service, which meant Kenny was out the door before 7 a.m. to drop it off, then jog home. (Don’t ask. I offer to take him, etc., but he’d prefer to run around the neighborhood. Literally.)
  • Last day of packing which meant we had to be absolutely sure we had our ‘take with us or ship’ stuff really really organized (or at least in a designated safe zone) so it didn’t end up in storage. And we needed to be available to do endless tours of each floor of the house and outside making sure the packers took everything we needed them to.
  • Kids’ last day of school, and then their last day at the babysitter’s house.
  • Our cars were being picked up by the car carrier between 1 and 4 p.m.
  • Grace’s last dance class.
  • Aaaaaaand, we needed to find a place to sleep since our beds were leaving!

By about 12:45 p.m., the house was empty, and the last moving truck pulled away. It was pretty emotional…kind of a relief, eerie to have so little of our personal belongings actually in our possession, terror, excitement… you name it, we probably felt it at that moment.

We were quickly snapped into reality by Kenny. We needed to pick up our rental car, grab our car from the shop (and wash it because it got drips of who knows what from the overhang of the 30th Street Station garage all over it the day before) and be back in time for the call from the car carrier, who was set to come at any point between 1 and 4 p.m.

So, we set out. Yup – 10 minutes into the drive to Hertz, we got the call from the car carrier who was about 15 minutes out from our house. Kenny floored it, I shoved him out of the driver’s seat at Hertz and did Mach 4 (Slight exaggeration. Slight.) back to our house so someone was there to meet him.

Kenny drove his (our) rented electric blue mini van back to our house, then jogged BACK to the car dealer (to pick up our car from a seven-hour service appointment even though it has less than 5,000 miles on it!), and headed back toward home.

Hilarity ensued…but let me set some context first.


About a week after we moved into our house, Kenny rolled through a yellow light at the corner of our street. The friendly neighborhood police didn’t take to that too kindly to that and we got pulled over. In our driveway. Welcome to the neighborhood!

We live a across the street from what was then a bank with ample parking, so the fact that Kenny pulled into our driveway instead of the bank raised suspicion with the police officer. He thought we were trying to make a get away, and jumped out of his car with his flashlight blazing, asking what we thought we were doing. Kenny replied that we just moved in, so he thought that would be the easier spot in which to pull over. He escaped with a warning. Of course, I found getting pulled over in our own driveway hilarious. First, it was our driveway. Who gets pulled over in their own driveway? Second, we literally lived in the house like a week. Our neighbors were probably questioning who moved onto the block. Third, this is Kenny we’re talking about here; he was once dubbed ‘Safety Sam’ by some of our friends.

Fast forward to Friday. I am sitting in my makeshift office (petting dustbunnies while answering email, of course) and I heard some police activity out front. I didn’t think much of it, because we live on a busier street, so it’s not unusual for someone to get pulled over out front.

Ten minutes later, Kenny comes bounding up the steps:

Kenny: “Did you get pictures?”

Clueless, I replied: “Of what?”

Kenny: “Of me and the cops.”

Yea, no. I missed the whole thing.

Here’s what went down:

Kenny was pulled over by one of the township’s finest. Across the street from our house in the former bank parking lot that is now a temporary storage space for the local car dealership. Full deal – siren beeps, lights flashing. Not a scene at all. He later commented that he would have just pulled into our driveway again, but there were cars blocking it.

The officer approached the car and told him he was going a little fast through the school zone and was on the phone.  Kenny had nothing to say yet – but he did have a smirk. He proceeded to hand requested documents to the police officer and explain (deep breath – this is a long one!) that he was on the way home from a service appointment which reset his computer system so his hands free feature was disabled and he was on the phone with the guy who was waiting in the Acme parking lot to load the car on a flatbed to move it across country, because – oh by the way – we are moving to Portland – aaaaaaand he lives right there (points across the street). The officer himself seemed overwhelmed by the chaos of that afternoon and told him “I’ll be right back”. After a mere moment of verifying the info Kenny presented, he returned and said “Be careful of the school zones and good luck with the move…”

Hahaha. Proof that everything – clearly, everything! – comes full circle!

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