“I can’t believe we’re moving again!” Jon cried. “It’s been less than a year since we moved here!”
Cheryl nodded, smiling. “I know! I can’t believe it!”
“You actually like this, don’t you?” Jon said. “You’re one sick puppy.” He gave her a quick kiss and went back to packing the shelves’ contents into boxes.
Cheryl laughed. “It’s true. And if I’m a sick puppy and you’re with me, what does that make you?”
“Hmm,” Jon replied absently as he looked at the object in his hands.
“A ‘sick puppy’ was the answer we were looking for,” Cheryl said. “Thanks for playing. Uh, what have you got there?”
“Have a look,” Jon said, turning to show her.
“What the hell?” Cheryl said, staring at what he held. Then she snatched it from him saying, “But we threw this out!”
Jon was pale. “I know. It came back.” He shuddered. “We’re going to have to…
In other news, our (real-life) move is done in the sense that our crap is moved. Our unpacking, however, has just begun. Still, I’ve managed to carve space for my computer and we even have the internets, so maybe I’ll get some posts up here soon.