The truck

So the big news in our neck of the woods is that my parents have survived their last Chicago winter and in just one week will be moving to Tennessee.  After almost a year of looking (although certainly at times with more gusto than others), they found a beautiful home 15 minutes from us.  Although it has a small upstairs and a basement for my dad's woodshop, it is basically one-floor living, which is exactly what they wanted. 

Their current home is basically the house I grew up in.  We moved there when I was Gracie's age,  so it's been 33 years.  When we moved in, Mom and Dad were the young ones on the street.  Now . . . well, they're not!!   While it makes me sad to think of someone else living in "our house," the people that are buying it are a young couple with a baby so there is something cyclical and wonderful about the idea of another little boy or girl growing up in that house with sidewalks to learn to ride their bike on, a huge park across the street and a neighborhood full of kids who could be classmates and lifelong friends.

My dad made a final road trip to Nashville to drop off his pickup truck.  But the pick up was far from empty.  In fact it was the second time he'd come down with the bed of the truck full of TOOLS!

I'm not going to lie, there was something oddly familiar when I watched him back his  truck into the driveway, weighed down with a big, heavy load of tools, packed in tightly and held down with straps and bungee cords.  And then it hit me. 

Wah wah wah wah . . .

Uh huh . . . it was Sanford and Son!!

And now hours later (with my dad already on a plane back to Illinois) I find that for the life of me I cannot get that theme song out of my head. 

Seriously . . . that might be the best theme without lyrics ever. 

And now it can be stuck in your head, too!