Anyway, my room was slowly becoming a storage unit; the game room was empty (we had gotten rid of our phoose ball and air hockey table); and the garage was becoming hard to access. I had to tell my friends I was moving, that was hard. Eventually, the big day came. The boys and I ended up sleeping on the floor the night before, and boy were we T-I-A-R-D. You know what that spells; zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Well Nyute was an exited wreck and I was still half asleep. Dad got to drive the big truck, ofcorse. I stayed with mom and the dog in the small car most of the time. When we got to the house, I found out that it was defiantly smaller than the old house, but it was a pretty good size.
After about a month, we had friends at church, I had friends at my new high school, and Dad had volunteered at the fire station. We learned pretty quickly the concept of 'adapt or die.' Of course I miss Dallas, but I have learned to like Houston. Despite the murderous humidity, I like it here. People all over Houston will soon know the Ott effect.
