Packing.

Packing has started. 

I finally got The Husband into the guest room to help me clean out all the nonsense we have in that extra room.  The Husband is a sentimental one.  It's cute, sometimes.  When you find yourself packing his 6th grade color wheel he turned in for his final project... it's obnoxious.  He can't bare to throw things away because every.single.thing holds a special memory.  

Example:  Pogs.

Remember Pogs, in oh... 7th grade?  Yea, the cardboard circles with cartoons on the front.  Uh huh, The Husband can't bare to throw them away because he remembers being proud of them sixteen YEARS ago.  

Any time we move, The Husband and I have a come-to-baby-jesus conversation that generally entails me threatening to throw everything he owns in the trash the next time he goes to work.  Sunday's conversation went much better, though.  I pried the Pogs out of his fingers with very little fight, and the color wheel even went into the trash voluntarily.  We got his "memory boxes" paired down to two large Rubbermaid tubs.  Success.  

Here's some photos of our current guest room, packing in progress:

That is EIGHT boxes right there.  I packed every single one.  They are heavy as hell.  Those books that made The Husband extra smart, are extra heavy.  

Guest Closet looking mighty bare.  

Bookshelves emptied.  

...and dusty.  gah.ross.

Our huge stockpile of free boxes.  These boxes will be apart of every weekend and free evening for the next three weeks.  

yes, that is an empty toilet paper roll on the floor.  My dog thinks they are the most fun toy ever.  They're free and keep him entertained for at least two minutes... so go ahead and judge.  I'm okay with that.