So, I left church with the kids today and get half-way home when I decide to get my phone out to make a call.
I have a voice-mail it says, so I dial to hear it. It is from Crashdad. Could I please call him, he needs some help?
So, I dial him back. He is laughing telling me that he is stuck in the attic of the garage and can't get down because the ladder fell.
So, we head for MILs old house to help him. I send DS into the garage to assist him with the ladder. DS comes running out to me, "Mom, come quick, Dad fell through the ceiling!"
Needless to say, I barked orders for the little ones to STAY IN THE CAR, and I ran into the garage. There I found him standing wedged into a pile of debris with broken sheet rock over his head. Apparently he landed on a bunch of bags of old wrapping paper (don't ask). Once we ascertain that he is not permanently damaged, DS and I figure out a way to get him out of his predicament. When he fell, it caused stuff to now block the doorway to him. Finally, we just shoved and got to him.
Crashdad is a pack-rat, but apparently hehas nothing on his parents. We found boxes of nothing but plastic lids, used wrapping paper, ancient magazines, and very little of anything worth keeping in the garage. In the kitchen, ditto lots of plastic lids. We cannot figure out the obsession with plastic lids. His parents never threw away anything, I swear.
We found the last shreds of savagable stuff and DH says that he is "DONE." He is ready for this chapter of his life to be over now. He is taking the last shipment to his Mom, and is turning his back on the rest of that mess.
BTW, someone (looters, neighbors, disgrunted crazy aunt) we are not sure whom, broke into the place and over turned some boxes he had packed, and all of the beds. They were looking for money or other valuables (there weren't any). It might have been the crazy aunt that did it though because this Aunt has claimed for decades that his parents have some family pictures that are hers. They do not exist, at least not at his parents anyway.
Of course, MIL calls every day to either thank him or call him the devil. Depends upon which reality she is in that day. He's toast my friends. He's spent, and very much looking forward to this trip.
For my part, I plan to do all that I can to make it great for him. For me, this trip is all about him. I plan to use all of the research that I have put into all things DISney, to make this special for him. He deserves it.