Movers and shakers

Over the weekend my parents, my heroes, came up and let me have some time to myself to wrap up some of my pending household tasks. I conquered Mt. Washed, made huge progress on Mt. Unwashed and was able to move furniture in my bedroom, the boy's bedroom and the, um, no-idea-what-use-it-had room, aka the den.
When I finally brought the family downstairs to look at the transformation, Big Dog was impressed.
"Wow mama, you're really good at moving things!"
What a flatterer, stop now, I'm blushing.

My furniture moving didn't stop there. On Monday, while home sick, I decided it was a good idea to move even more furniture. This is an annoying habit of mine. I'll get sick, sick enough to justify staying home wrapped up in my blankets snuggled in my bed, and yet instead of relaxing, sleeping and getting better, I decide I need to work through my list of "To Dos" So with my fever blazing, I went ahead and set up a table in the former den, moved in the chairs and voila I had a dining room!
Again, Big Dog was again impressed!
"Mommy, you sure are good at moving beds and tables!"

Well after my antics on Monday, I don't think it was that much of a surprise that I was even sicker on Tuesday. I mean, when did lifting heavy objects and generally overdoing it ever claim to be a miracle cure? Claiming to have learned my lesson, this time I did stay in bed. I snuggled in, watched movies and sulked, griped about how crappy I felt. Quite the pity party. Well, when Big Dog came home, he walked from room to room.
Finally he came back to me and asked "You didn't move anything? What did you do today?"
Guess I've set a dangerous precedent with all of this positive housekeeping stuff. I'd better start slacking again, STAT.