Tonight, after watching my suitcase sit half full, (er, is it half empty?) in the corner of the bedroom for one whole month, I finally have to pack up and get ready to go home :( Now, I don't mind packing, it's the unpacking that I despise. I probably won't be completely unpacked for at least a week after I get home. My animal printed suitcase will be sitting at the foot of my new bed in my room, and every day I will pick an outfit out of it to wear for the day, and repeat that action as long as it takes for that suitcase to empty out. And every day my mom will tell me the same thing: "Danielle, you HAVE to unpack tonight, your stuff can't just keep camping out right there! K? There's no room for it." And I'll say the same thing every day: "Ugh, mom, I know. I promise I'll clean up tonight." Hah, FAT CHANCE.
Anyway, back to packing. I had all my clothes in front of me, messily folding them and staggering them into my suitcase, hoping everything was gonna fit. So I'm sitting there cross-legged, realizing that I'm almost done packing everything, but here's the kicker: I have to get up and reach that Bath & Body Works bag sitting across the room, and I can't move. I feel like I've been hit by a truck. (I went jet skiing with my cousin on Sunday, and now I feel completely broken). All my muscles are so beyond sore, I can't even sit my @$$ on the toilet without wincing. All I could do was dramatically reach my arm out in front of me in hopes that I would magically turn into Matilda. Ya know, the little girl from the movie who can slam a door in her brother's face just by pointing at the doorknob? Not to mention draw a water glass closer to her just by looking at it. I could only dream.
So this is the complicated method I have to use to get my broken body up off the floor: rock myself forward on my hands and knees. Reach up and use the bunk bed ladder to pull myself up. Then, one limb at a time, painfully hoist myself up. I look like a total retard. AND I walk like an old man with a pickle up his butt. GREAT.
Thirty minutes later, (oh, and I DID finally get across to reach the Bath & Body Works bag. Whew!)...I was sitting on the couch, pluggin' away at this blog post, and Cara comes out of the bedroom and asks for some water. So now I roll myself off of the couch, and of course all the muscles in my legs are ten times more sore after I've been sitting for a few minutes and have to stand up. As I was obviously limping across the living room and into the kitchen, Cara on my heels, she sweetly says, "Danielle, are you hurting?" Oh. My. Gosh. AWW!!! It doesn't get any cuter than that right there, my friends. "Yeah, Cara, I am hurting."
So, I guess I don't have much more to say about tonight, but that one little statement, from the sweetest and most adorable two-year-old girl in the universe, made my entire night. <3
