Moving is rather routine for my husband and and I. We flip houses, so the house we live in is generally on the market.
One might think that by now, I should have mastered moving down to an organized science, and I suppose to some degree I do. If one did think that, one would be very wrong. 
In fact, I’m probably the worst mover ever. I pack everything the week before the move date. Not during the whole 30 days we have to move, but in the last 5-7 days.
The thing is: Moving just sucks. And I know I should be able to provide a synonym from sucks for you so that you don’t think that I’m in the third grade. However, ’sucks’ is the only word that truly conveys the way I feel about moving.
It’s not so much leaving this house.
Okay, maybe it is a little, but this kitchen is one of my true loves.
(by the way, that toaster is pink if you can’t tell. haha. I know….I know.)
Really, it’s the ridiculousness of lugging stuff back and forth. Packing and unpacking. Backaches and headaches. You get the picture.
I’m just hoping that the deal for the new house closes before we have to be out of this one, for sure.
Anyway, enough boring house talk, here are more hyphenated last names gone wrong:
And the grand champion of pure filth:
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