We’ve been in our current home nearly two years now, and I have yet to go through all the boxes from that last move. Most of them have sat sadly in our garage during the duration. Sometimes when I pull my van into the garage, they mock me. “What a loser. Two whole years and this is as far as you’ve gotten?” But mostly, they don’t call to me at all. As other tasks have taken priority, those forlorn, forgotten-about boxes have become “part of the furniture.” And yet…it would be nice to get that monkey off my back. In my mind, the season for garage work is ever so slim, and wouldn’t you know, we’re smack dab in the middle of that season now. So today I was determined to get a few more abandoned boxes cleared out. Midway through the project, I was interrupted to do a kid pick-up at school. That took about twenty minutes there and back. I worked a little longer when we returned, but a serious problem arose. You see, I had the garage door open to allow for more light and air and the weather was amazing, and…well…at some point I realized I’d much rather be out THERE than in HERE. So I gathered up the troops and made a beeline for a nearby playground.