(credit: Megan Geuss)
Last month, my husband and I were getting ready to move to another city, and, as often happens when you make big moves, the place was in shambles. Rooms were turned upside down, crucial pieces of furniture were sold way too far in advance of our move (who needs a kitchen table anyway?), and everything we’d ever owned was eyed critically for the garage sale chopping block. In the midst of the chaos, I got a knock on my door from the UPS guy.
"Wait right here," he said breathlessly over the murderous rage my dog was expressing from behind the door. I watched, heart sinking, as he pulled five giant boxes from his truck, one of which was ominously marked “OVER 70 POUNDS.” He wheeled them over to my front steps on a dolly.
"There must be some mistake,” I protested.
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