I addressed the kitchen sink bitterly. "Is there any particular reason," I inquired of it, "why they have to buy our most necessary possessions first? Somewhere in this city are the people who are going to buy our lamps and end tables; what are they waiting for? I suppose they're going to be sweet about it and let us have the use of them until the day before we leave." I was in a bad mood when Grant got home from work. He started to put his lunch bucket where the kitchen table should have been. He put it on the sink instead and asked me why I looked so unhappy. "They bought our kitchen table and our dining room set and the bedroom set," I wailed. "For the price we wanted?" I nodded miserably. "Wonderful!" He seized me in his grease-stained hands and swung me above his head. "You won't think it's so wonderful after you've slept on the floor a few nights," I prophesied grimly. The doorbell rang. "Ah," I said, "it must be the moving vawn." While two muscular men dismantled the bedroom set and carried it out, I prepared dinner. I had no idea how or where we were going to eat it, but I decided not to face that problem until it came. It came soon enough. The moving van had gone, taking with it all hope for the next month's nocturnal comfort, and the potatoes were done. The pork chops were brown and sizzling, and the peas were steaming. I pondered. Should we put the plates on the kitchen floor and squat around them? That wouldn't be very comfortable. I could put the breadboard over the bathroom sink, making a small table out of it. David and I could sit on the edge of the bathtub, and Grant could sit on the-- No, that wouldn't do. I settled it by filling our plates and carrying them into the living room. Grant's and David's plates I set on each arm of the davenport. I put my own plate on an arm of the overstuffed chair. The salt, pepper, bread and butter were in the middle of the living room floor. "Are you still glad we sold our tables?" I asked Grant, when we had started eating. He's always willing to put up with a little inconvenience if there's profit in it. "Yep," he said. "If we hadn't quick sold them the first day, it might have turned out that no one would want them at all, and we'd have to come way down in the price. Please pass the bread." "Just the same," I said, getting down on my hands and knees to get him a piece of bread, "I'm going to add twenty dollars to what we planned on asking for the living room set. If anyone wants it tomorrow they're going to have to really pay for it!" "You split your infilitive, Mama," David said.