We hate it.
But tonight, A Reader's Respite thought we'd share a rare glimpse inside our personal
By the way, this post is completely non-book related. Unless you count that we are providing you with photo evidence that our books did, for the most part, complete the move intact.
Notice that the television is so new that we haven't even removed the plastic cover from the face of it. The wires are there to we always have the option of hanging ourselves if the stress of the move overwhelms us.
Proof that our internet really is working and that A Reader's Respite is now officially so far behind on book reviews we may never actually catch up. Ever.
All we can do when we gaze upon this room is laugh hysterically and then sob uncontrollably. Walk away.
See? We told you the books (or at least most of them) were safe and happy.
Except for these piles of non-fiction in what-will-someday-be-a-real-dining-room. (Oh, and the 14 other boxes still in the garage.)
Again, laugh and cry every time we pass by this room in which we lock our children. We refuse to even enter this room at this point.
So there you have it.
This has been a shameless attempt to garner sympathy.