So we have this big Australian builder who we just love.
He and his guys were working in our house for most of Jordan's first year of life. He was the last to leave our Christmas party. His dog feels very at home in our home.
So some months ago, Betty decided she was ready to move in. She already sleeps here several nights a week, and their house is just too big. It's time to let it go and move on.
So Betty is going to move in! But first, first we need to do a bunch of construction. Beginning with putting in an elevator.
Because there are many stairs, and she will be on the third floor. A normal elevator is too big, but there are these super-cool George Jetson sort of pneumatic elevators. Seriously - look at them. They're crazy. And we are going to have one of those!
So I looked at the elevator website, and I was all, cool! They can just cut holes in the floors and stick in the tubes and it's done!
Uh, sort of. Turns out elevators are more complicated than that.
Also, and the cause of my panic: the elevator will run through what is now Jordan's room. He will need to move. We have room for him, although we're moving him to what's currently our storage room.
We've done nothing about organizing this for him.
And this morning, on the way out the door, Nick said, "So Australian Builder is coming by today or tomorrow, Betty."
What we didn't realize was this. Australian Builder is turning up today with his crew, ready to work. I just got a panicked call from Betty.
They've just taken apart the crib to get it out the door. We need to set him up down the hall, and take out all of his stuff. We've prepared not one bit for the catastrophic mess that's about to occur.
Panic! Fuck! Construction! Now! Today!