Saturday, August 28, 2010

The Twelve Days of Boxes



On the first day of boxes, the movers brought to me:
Four hundred and twenty three.

On the second day of boxes, our family seemed to be:
Making a dent
In the 423.

On the third day of boxes, I looked around to see:
Still stacks and stacks,
And barely a dent,
In the 423.

On the fourth day of boxes, the boxes seemed to be:
Multiplying
Into bigger stacks.
Where had that dent gone?
In the 423...

On the fifth day of boxes, I pulled my hair and screamed:
"HOW CAN THIS BE??!!!"
Boxes can't multiply,
Stacks shouldn't grow,
Was I imagining that dent?
In the 423.

On the sixth day of boxes, I hid under my sheets:
No more for me.
THIS JUST CAN'T BE,
Math's not on my side,
Stacks won't budge ,
Dents don't exist,
In the 423.

On the seventh day of boxes, I climbed back out and yelled:
"I declare war!"
My box cutter and me
WE WON'T RETREAT!
Multiply that!
Stacks you'd better run--
Dents, I'll hunt you down--
No more 423!

On the eighth day of boxes, I assessed the enemy.
Then started weeping,
War was not working,
Boxes were smirking,
NO VICTORY.
Multiplying stinks,
Stacks make me sore,
Dents are for the birds,
I was losing to 423.

On the ninth day of boxes, I stared at the ceiling.
Comatose on the floor.
Weeping didn't help,
War wasn't fun,
Someone box me up,
I NEED THERAPY.
Multiplication blues,
Permanent Stack Syndrome,
Dent-less depression,
Caused by 423.

On the tenth day of boxes, I was pleased to see:
A break in my misery.
I could see the floor,
Tears were of joy,
I was a warrior,
Boxes were depleting,
NO NEED TO MEDICATE ME.
Multiplying stopped,
Stacks going down,
Dents were really there,
In the 423.

On the eleventh day of boxes, I danced a dance of glee:
The end was in sight!
I had earned a break,
The floor was nearly clear,
Smile from ear to ear,
Peace, not war
Boxes hear me roar
I'M ALMOST FREE!
Multiply my joy
Stack the odds in my favor
Dents are now large holes
in the 423.

On the twelfth day of boxes...

Ummm. Excuse me for a minute.

OK, I'm back.

On the thirteenth day of boxes...

Wait, wait, wait...be right back. OK, let's try that again.

On the fourteenth day of boxes...

So I thought I was almost done, what happened here? This is not a tidy ending for a song. Can we try that again?

On the fifteenth day of boxes...

OK this is getting ridiculous. I mean, I only have the book boxes left, right? And why open those before we get the bookshelves? I guess there's that box of "decorative items" too, but again...until you have a place to put things, you know...

On the sixteenth day of boxes...

Ummm, not sure I want to admit that publicly. Go ahead and scratch that last line.

On the fifteenth day of boxes...

No, wait, rewind further than that. People like happy endings. Let's go with the even twelve.

On the twelfth day of boxes, everything was done...

Yeah, that sounds good. Go with that one.

On the twelfth day of boxes, everything was done.
Things were all settled,
House was in order,
Silverware was polished,
Kids were clean and happy,
Meals were gourmet,
Life was caught up,
HUSBAND WAS ON A WHITE HORSE.
Wife was put together,
No complaints from us,
Model family,
Happy ending to 423.