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It’s been a while.  School, fall, work and me and Viktor (my long-suffering Ukrainian on again/off again boyfriend) found a house — and we bought it!

Jack and I moved out of our place last weekend. The move was fast and furious there was no time to reflect. But looking back, that place was the first place it was just me and Jack. And it was good. For that I am grateful.

It’s been a lot of changes and I’ve handled it with the usual aplomb. (Wow, that’s a funny word.) First, we had to find a new home for our kitty. Viktor is allergic and so my friend Christopher is taking him in. Jack likes the cat, sure. But he has never shown a huge attachment to him. I didn’t think it would be that big a deal. 

I’ll set the scene. We are at Wes and Sarah’s and I’m talking about the upcoming move. I say, “I don’t know who’s going to take the cat.”

Then Jack goes, “What?  No!  We are not giving the cat away, that’s my cat!” and bursts into tears. Wes just looks at me and says, “That was smooth.”  Somewhere in the blur of house offers, mortgage stress and moving, I felt sure I had talked to Jack about needing to find kitty a new home.

You can take the girl out of narcissist city but apparently you can’t take the narcissist out of the girl. I’m not sure if that makes sense, but you get what I mean. I’m from Los Angeles. My parents would decide to move to France and then tell us on the plane. “But my friends! My school!  My education!” I would protest, to no avail.

Blunder Number Two:  Viktor suggested that Jack visit the house and pick his room. “Wow! That’s a great idea.”  I said, happy that Viktor is also trying to make this a comfortable transition. So, Jack comes along one of times we view the house before taking possession. It’s 6:00 pm and rainy. Viktor is stuck in traffic so he’s not there. The real estate lady is showing us how to feed the fish. (Hello! Koi pond! Near the Danforth, no less!)

Jack is climbing the bannister and running around the house trying to destroy it before closing. He runs upstairs and yells, “I’ve chosen my room!” I climb up the stairs to discover he’s chosen the master bedroom. The big one with the gas fireplace. “But Jack, that is the master bedroom.”

“I want this room! This is my room.”  He yells gleefully.

Later, I tell Wes the story. “You should have set parameters before Jack saw the house,” Wes tells me. But I just assumed. You know, because it’s the ‘Master’ bedroom. I guess Jack feels he’s the ‘Master.’ Or like me, he is a sucker for charming features like bay windows.

We’ve moved. It’s a mess. But it’s closer to Jack’s school so we can walk like good Canadians (except when it gets too cold, and then we’ll drive.) Viktor has another month on his lease so he’ll be moving in next month. Jack and I are sleeping in the ‘Master’ bedroom for now, while I paint. It’s so close to the subway station we can feel the trains.  Weeeeee!

Viktor came over last night and had to leave because he had an allergic reaction. We think it’s the furniture. But it could be me. Or Jack. Did I mention the koi pond?

The Big Move


Oh God — what have I done?!

Precious Chong is a writer and actor in Toronto. She’s also a professional stilt walker and the daughter of cult movie hero Tommy Chong. Her podcast with Melissa Story is called Sex and the Single Parent. Read more Being Precious right here.


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