How do you flippin pack for the whole summer?
Ugh.
I've been absent. It's just because I'm losing my mind. No big deal.
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4 comments:
Throw all of your underoos at the bottom of the bag, followed by all of your socks, followed by your three best pair of jeans, four t-shirts, a black pair of pants and few black shirts, a pair of dress shoes and a pair of tennis shoes.
After that, you stuff everything else you can think of on top of that and stick your knee into the whole pile until your bag zips.
Done.
"My yoke is easy, and my burden is light." -Seth (and Jesus)
By the way, as we've discussed previously, I'm a lot like Seth, in that I expect my wife to be the one who keeps things together, and keeps things running smoothly, and keeps things organized and stuff.
She knows I need her, and she accepts this. But occasionally, things do get heavy and stressful for her, and she says "Do you expect me to always be the brains for this operation? If you do, we're in trouble!"
That's when I know it's time for me to try and contribute just a little more than I normally do to the logistics of operating our little criminal enterprise.
Seth, have fun with that.
C-ham, the one thing I won't organize for him is his suitcase. Never ever have I packed for that boy, and never ever will I. He won't have it. But it's OK cuz I don't want it. We don't even share suitcases. Nope. No sirrrree. I tried that at the beginning and after the first trip or so he demanded we pack separate suitcases. Demanded, I tell you! Well that's fine with me because I don't have to worry about him asking me where his socks are, and he doesn't have to worry about not having any room for his socks, and it's his own fault if he leaves his socks behind.
See how that agreement works? I love agreements.
And I think I might steal your wife's quote, because that's the truth. We only have brains for you boys until it's unbearable, and then we turn into emotional crises-es.
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