PART II: Whereupon Amy decides to leave her old life behind and move into an Assisted Living community (whether they want her to or not)

Thanks to the combined efforts of six able-bodied adults which consisted of five actual laborers and me needlessly bossing them about, we were able to move my mom in just over a record-breaking three hours. We could have shaved two and a half hours off of our time if we'd all just sat down, sipped our coffee, and let my nephew Colby move it all himself while we argued with my sister-in-law's declaration that pillow-fighting was a contender as a future Olympic event but I digress. 
 

Happily, Brad and I missed out on the unloading portion of the trip as we popped into Stuff-Mart to purchase a mounting bracket for a television that we then later decided did not need to be mounted. We were accused by our indignant moving company that it was all a ruse and that we'd actually been parked surreptitiously in the back parking lot, monitoring their progress with binoculars. I tried to explain that those binoculars were for birds, to no avail.

Moving complete (I had only chipped one nail because I had to crack open my own Pepsi...Colby wouldn't put down the mechanized recliner he'd been carrying to help me...so selfish), all that was left was to move Mom in the next day. This gap in time had interfered with my sleep the previous evening:

2:00 am

Amy: (poke, poke) Brad, are you awake?

Brad: Huh? Yeah.

Amy: How am I going to watch TV tonight?

Brad: We'll figure something out. Go to sleep.

3:00 am

Amy: (poke, poke) Don't we have a tiny TV upstairs? Do you think we could find a way to hook it up?

("We" is always a fun term to toss around with Brad Mosiman)

Brad:  I'm sure we can figure out something. Go to sleep.

4:00 am

Amy: (poke, poke) Brad...?

Brad: (sighing) Yeah?

Amy: Can we get doughnuts in the morning?

Brad: Yeah.

So with my mother's monstrous television installed over at her apartment (but mysteriously NOT bracketed to the wall), Brad heroically hooked up a postage stamp-sized screen for us to watch during our final evening at the house. "Don't trouble yourself," I had dramatically announced when we awoke that morning at the break of dawn, "it's nothing to lose sleep over." I had begun downloading one-woman puppet shows with which to amuse my mother at 5:00 am so I was feeling prepared.

The entire household appreciated Brad's efforts. Sitting on the couch with my mom, my Aunt Sally leaned forward and squinted. "Vee? Where is your magnifying glass?" We discovered VERY quickly, that when it comes to televisions, size definitely DOES matter. "Are we all done?" Colby asked, clapping his hands and giving a little half-circle boxer dance. He was apparently ready to go another round. "Can we move the couch closer to the TV?" I asked. So with Colby manning one side and the rest of us wrestling with the other, we inched the couch to within a couple of feet of the television. "Can you see the TV okay?" Brad asked my mom. "What TV?" she wondered. Brad glared at me.

Later that evening, after everyone had left, I dashed off a picture of Mom and I "roughing it" to my niece Fallanne. She was compassionately quick to respond:

Fallanne:  At least you have that big screen TV to keep you busy!

Apparently, she blew up the picture I sent her for a closer look.

Fallanne:  What are you watching?

Amy:  Disney's Playhouse. It was either that or porn.

Fallanne: I'm concerned what sort of influence you are on my dear grandmother.

Good thing I refrained from telling Miss Fallanne about the mixed drinks and strippers I'd ordered.