-
It happens. Even with our meticulous planning around packing. On moving day, ms_com had to stay at the old flat to try and wrangle a missing cat (SOMEONE didn't think my idea of keeping the cats in overnight the night before to stop this from happening was a good idea so one cat fucked off at the earliest opportunity). So she was not at the new place to direct the movers as to where to put what box. Turns out labelling boxes means fuck all if they're stacked 5 high and 5 deep in two different rooms on two different floors.
Label all sides of boxes when packing in future is the only lesson I learned. And trap any pets at the earliest opportunity.
-
(SOMEONE didn't think my idea of keeping the cats in overnight the night before to stop this from happening was a good idea so one cat fucked off at the earliest opportunity)
cats can be so smart/funny about stuff like this. growing up with burmilla/burmese cats we couldnt get suitcases out (to pack for going on holidays) without making sure the catflap was locked as the cats would immediately disappear because they knew they would shortly be heading to the cattery for 1-2 weeks :--) cunts
-
We also set aside a box each for the kids to pack some toys and a box for kettle/tea bags/coffee/squash and a few cups that we moved across in our car so the kids were calm and we had tea.
We picked up the keys and walked in to find the place infested mind, so walked straight out and booked the exterminators.
Finally, after nearly three years of trying to move, we're in the new house. Normally that would be the cause of celebration, but both kids are in floods of tears and want to go home, because the new house has quirks that we haven't got round to getting used to yet and everything we need is in a box somewhere.
Took three hours to find the fucking kettle, moving guys were great but were just grabbing stuff we needed - i.e. aforementioned kettle, bits of the vacuum cleaner, both kid's pair of shoes - and throwing them into boxes and chucking them into the van.