Oh dear God, what is going on here? Hmmm.... who do we know who'd be... well, there's no nice way to put it, crazy enough to dangle head first over a stacked washer-dryer unit, just to make sure everything's kosher back there, in terms of pipes and hook ups and what-not? I'll give you a little time to think about it. Okay, time's up. That would be longtime hubby. This photo, taken on Saturday by the eldest/new homeowner, pretty much sums up the past few topsy turvy, upside down weeks, the obsessiveness, the parental enabling on a level I didn't even think we were capable of, the supreme dedication, Home Depot schlepping, and endless installation of bathroom vanities, appliances and lights, not to mention the destruction of a fireplace hearth and plumbing wizardry, performed by my one and only, with some assistance from Billy and Chlo-Chlo. All this, plus back and neck strain and a fair amount of cursing, just to move our son and pregnant daughter-in-law into a very old, but charming house, located two minutes away. But wait, what did I do? Plenty. I supervised. I worried. I offered moral support. Listen, when the man retires from show biz, whenever that happens, my biggest fear: he'll spend the rest of his days duplicating the afore-mentioned insanity, knocking on random doors, offering to demolish, hook up, rewire, crawl under, hang over, climb a ladder to reach and repair you-name-it, as any decent neighbor worth his neighborliness would do, if they've got a few screws missing, and I say that with love.
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