The Last Final One

I have noticed in our few short years of marriage that we move a lot. Fourth time in two years... transient much? I don't mind moving, I don't mind packing and hauling and reassembling all of our furniture and most of our belongings. The part that I hate is the part that I am on now. All those loose ends; the calender and that random drawer full of things that you need but are just a jumble of junk. aka the junk drawer, the book you are currently reading, the last two glasses you kept out so that you could have a drink the week or so before you moved. (I am one of those people you want to help you pack because I am efficient and get it all done way in advance.) But I always am still up way late the night before procrastinating the last two boxes. The 'do I pack ____ now or in the morning?' boxes.
Here is the deal I will make with anyone who knows me personally. I will pack your entire house if you will pack my last two boxes. Honest. The last time we packed up most of our belongs they went into storage for a year and one of the nice guys who helped us moved said that he had never moved someone who was so organised. All our things were packed, labeled what room they go into and what was inside, AND all of the boxes were moved into the room closest to the door. He was appreciative, as the last person he helped move had a load of laundry IN the washing machine he helped haul up the stairs and into the truck. (Sorry if that was you and I just smash talked you.) So... do we have a deal or what? Last two boxes... anyone?

PS I will make you banana bread if you can tell me where/who/what the post title is from.