Sorry, We're Closed

Today's the big day! The day my wife and I have been waiting on for three and a half years! We are closing on a new house! Well, a slightly used house. Okay, it was built before the Great Depression. But that's okay, it's a real house! Not even a manufactured one! That's right, my family is finally moving into a real, solid, sturdy, stick-built house. And let me tell you, this has been a long time coming. I would like to take this time to give a brief history of my small family's living experiences since my wife and I were married.
My wife and I got married while we were still in college. Because of this, we had to live in a 400 square foot closet my school chose to call married housing. Our bed was in between the toilet and the refrigerator. Which I guess made it kind of nice--I could roll one way and relieve myself, roll the other way and grab a sandwich. So we were there for about eight months.
After graduating, we really had nowhere to go. We had no jobs, no apartment anymore (our lease was up), and only a thousand dollars or so left over from our wedding. So our only option, then, was to move back to my wife's hometown and live with her parents. We figured we would stay with them for a month or so until we got back on our feet.
Eight months later, when I finally realized it was too late to get a teaching job, we moved into an apartment in the same town. It was a nice one--more than twice as big as our prior married housing space and in a nice area! We even had an extra bedroom to store all the dinosaur figurines my wife collects. Okay, the figurines I collect. So during this time, my wife was pretty much supporting us and paying rent while I substitute taught, like a loser.
Six months later I had a great lead on a job in my hometown. Selling manufactured homes. Hey, I know I wasn't using my degree, but don't you need a good head on your shoulders to sell manufactured homes? Yeah, I thought so, too. While we were there, we found an apartment that wasn't quite as nice as our last. We lost a bedroom. But, hey, we were happy. We still had a dishwasher.
Two or so months later, my wife decided it smelled too much of smoke from the prior renter and we had to move to another apartment in the same complex. Try as I could, I never smelled a thing (Ha ha...I love you, honey!). I have to say, though, it was a lot nicer than our last one. The light fixtures were slightly newer. If you're counting, this would be our fifth move in two years.
Around eight months later (see a pattern here?), after realizing I was probably never going to make it to the top selling manufactured houses, I was lucky enough to get the job I have now. In the city in which we used to live. My wife's hometown. Funny how things work. So I just got a new job, my wife's pregnant, things are looking up! Where do we move now? Back in with my wife's parents, of course! Move number six. So here we have been, living with the in-laws, celebrating the holidays year after year, sticking together through thick and thin, and watching my little girl grow up to be a beautiful young woman.
Ok, it hasn't been that long, but it sure feels like it. Seriously, though, almost a full year later, we are finally getting ready to move into our own house! By ourselves! We're growing up. And I'm hoping this will be the last move we make for a while--at least for the next eight months or so, anyways.