When the moving company moved our stuff here from Rockford, they tagged every box, tub, piece of furniture, and package of diapers with numbered stickers to keep track of what was put on the truck. Even David's motorcycle had a little green sticker on it.
As we unpacked, we pulled stickers off of everything we owned. For months, I found them in countless places. Under the dining room table. On Hope's bed. On Jody.
Monday we unloaded the motorhome when we got home from camping. David put all the books we'd taken in a little garbage can to carry them all inside. Yesterday as the garbage can was sitting by the door with a pile of things to go back to the motorhome, I noticed a little green sticker on the side of it.....I guess I missed that one.
And, of course, the sight of the sticker made me regret, for the ten millionth time in the last four years, that we ever left Rockford. What seemed like such a good idea has turned out to be one of our biggest regrets. Darn stickers- I really didn't need that reminder.
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