Boxes

Well.... we've spent the past two weeks packing up everything we own. This process has led me to the conclusion that even at 22 and 26 years old, one can have way too much stuff. I mean really, where does it come from?? I have a washing machine that eats socks and a closet that mass produces odds and ends and gains joy from hiding them from me until now. Sheesh!


It's been a good lesson in communication for Jarrod and I; daily I'm reminded that God has a sense of humor. So, cleaning out our kitchen drawers I find our silverware has rebelled against its organizer and is strewn all over. Trying to be super organized, I start separating all the dinner forks, salad forks, knives..... the piles keep growing and growing! Total: 5 different style utensils, 18 "sets", and approximately 12 extra forks. When I presented this situation to my husband, secretly desiring to purge all the misfits, he responded with "oh wow! those are my favorite forks! we have to keep those!". Defeated, I walked away to regroup - plotting my next attack on the renegade forks.


I'm not the only one who has had a difficult time with the boxes. Simba, our 10 pound miniature poodle, lives in fear of the mighty box-wall. I imagine it's a bit like the scene in The Mummy where Evie is putting books away at the library and ladder starts slowly tipping backwards: fear of imminent crushing. Poor dog. Jarrod has placed empty containers on his head and chased the dog around... promise pics to come later :)

In the end, there's just a bit left to pack! Now if only I could find the tape.....