Toaster Strudels

Does anyone remember when I asked for you to tell me not to stress out about my move? Well, that time is here! I’m moving! The reason I could possible be stressing out is because I had a week between my move out and move in dates, among other things. The thing is, today is my move in date, but it’s going to be a slow process. Half of my stuff is at my boyfriend’s house and the other half is at my parents’. (I’m trying not to think about it, to be perfectly honest.)

What I am thinking about is that I had a toaster strudel for breakfast this morning. You heard that right. A toaster strudel. (One more time? Toaster strudel. Mmmmmm.) If you’ve never had one before, drop what you’re doing right now (even though, that’s reading my blog) and go grab some of these things. My flavor of choice is strawberry, but you can probably find a flavor you’d like. (I still need to try the Boston cream pie flavor.) Do you know why I got to partake in a scrumptious toaster strudel? Well, I’ll tell you.

For the past week or so, with my temporary homelessness, I’ve been living with my boyfriend and his mom. They have a noisy, but highly lovable, cat and a dog that is currently in the puppy stage. Just with the four of them, things can get a little hectic. Dog barking. Cat meowing. Throw my craziness into the mix, (you may remember I have two dogs) and you get something close to a zoo. Plus, my stuff is taking up a good part of their garage. Despite all that, they have welcomed me with open arms. Now that it seems I may not be able to move in completely for a little while, they have even invited me to stay as long as I need.

For my boyfriend, this is stereotypical behavior. He should want to take me in, (no matter how annoying I am) if I’m homeless. This doesn’t take away how important his actions are to me. I don’t take it for granted by any means, because I truly appreciate everything he’s done for me and how welcome he’s made me feel. His mom, however, is not expected to act that way. I know we’re not married but if we were, my boyfriend’s mom would be my mother-in-law. (Maybe you were aware of that already.) If she were my mortal enemy in that case, it would perfectly fit the stereotype. BIG BUT! But, she has made me feel wanted in her home and been extremely kind to me.

I was driving to their house from the train station last week and called to see if she needed anything from the store since I was already out. She told me she couldn’t think of anything, unless there was something I wanted. I said, “Oh okay, well I’ll be home in a minute.” Silence. “Um, I mean, I’ll be to your house in a minute.” I chuckled, nervously. Her response, “Well, this is your temporary home.” She laughed. I laughed too. I’m still not sure she knows how much those words meant to me.

When Easter came around, the Easter bunny brought me a basket. I don’t care that I’m 25 years old, I was excited (still am) about that Easter basket complete with a rabbit stuffed animal and bunny mask. The three of us went to church together Sunday morning. Easter dinner was an amazing event too. I even got to help with the cooking (and no one died of food poisoning.) I’ve always been welcome at their family table, but recently, it’s been more like I’m part of the family.

My boyfriend’s mom is also the one that bought me the toaster strudels.

I haven’t shared a home with anybody in about four years, but I’m grateful to my boyfriend and his mom for allowing me to share theirs, even if it is for just a short time. They have helped relieve the stress by taking off some of the pressure that comes with moving. Because of their help, I don’t feel worn down and frustrated. That’s one of the reasons I’m excited to start getting into my new place tonight.

Now, I know I put that thing in one of these boxes…

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