‘Twas the PCS before Christmas, when all through the house, not a thing was present, not even a blouse.

The stockings were packed in a box moved somewhere, we hope the packers didn’t label it dishware.

The children were nestled on the floor or air bed, while visions of old and new friends danced in their heads.

With Papa in his BDU’s and me with my map, we all settled down for a 2-hour nap.

When out in the living room rang out such a clatter, I didn’t jump up with my back about to shatter!

But what to my wondering eyes do appear, but the movers with only two crates of my gear! – Heather D.

For, of course, they had forgotten to call to say when they’d be near. – Danielle M.

But behind them was a man with his clipboard. His suit was not reg, neither was his hat! He was a site for sure, I can tell you that. – Lisa W.

He whipped up a schedule and threatened not to pay, and away the movers went, finishing their day.

And off to the next house, the man went in a hurry, and we all breathed a sigh of relief without worry.

The next day the kids awoke Christmas morning with a big enormous grin. “Is this our new home?” “Nope! It’s the Residence Inn.” – Kathryn W.