[Here’s a repeat of a teeny post from 2017. Thanks for your patience, folks, while I get my manic brain settled back into its writing gear. Note to self: Quit being bipolar!]
So I walk into the kitchen this morning—still half-asleep—to fill my mini-keg with ice and Diet Coke. And whoa! I see this surfboard that Bow Tie o’ the Day dragged home from a night on the town. Bow Tie informed me this is not, in fact, a surfboard. It’s a product called an ironing board. I have no earthly idea what you do with one of these. Bow Tie tried to explain its function, but it all sounded like a bunch o’ blah, blah, blah to me. I guess I’ll have to YouTube it.
[This is the 3rd year for this repeat post. I just want y’all to know that this box still hasn’t been moved or opened. Suzanne—hint, hint.]
Bow Tie o’ the Day and Ties o’ the Day were out in the garage with me this afternoon, helping me search for a certain piece of Christmas decor I can’t locate. Suzanne and I recently got some heavy-duty shelving—which Suzanne assembled—to finally organize the garage, which has been a dizzyingly complicated maze ever since we moved the contents of the Delta house to our place here in Centerville. Suzanne did a dandy job of clearing the garage floor of storage bins and boxes. Brownie points to Suzanne!
If Suzanne hadn’t fit everything neatly on the shelves, I would have known exactly where to find the item I’m looking for. I know all the maps of disorganization that surround me. It’s the cleaned up, neatness I can’t wade through. In our house, there has always been an understanding that if you can’t find something, you ask me. I know where everything is—except, apparently, the one Christmas decoration I’m seeking.
Anyhoo… As I was ferreting around through storage bins in the garage, what to my wondering eyes did appear?! Not what I was tracking down, that’s for sure. But I did see the box that lurks behind me in the photo. Suzanne had so eloquently labeled it with her fluorescent green Sharpie. Even my holiday neckwear was amused at what she wrote.
Suzanne is the most even-tempered person I know, so this piece of exclamatory labeling is certainly a cry for help. I can imagine the face she wore as she wrote the words. It is Suzanne’s “I-can’t-believe-we-still-have-this-box-of-crap-and-I-haven’t-sorted-it-out-yet-although-we-must-not-need-it-cuz-we-haven’t-used-any-of-whatever-it-is-in-years-but-I-don’t-dare-throw-it-away-and-I-don’t-trust-Helen-to-cull-it-correctly-so-I-won’t-let-her-decide-the-fate-of-each-item-but-I-don’t-know-when-I’ll-ever-have-time-to-go-through-the-box-so-I’ll-express-my-frustration-by-writing-this-snitty-label-on-the-side-of-the-box-and-I’ll-put-the-task-on-my-chore-list-which-I’ll-promptly-lose-and-then-I’ll-forget-this-box-of-Christmas-shit-even-exists-until-I-try-to-find-something-in-the-garage-and-I-run-across-this-box-once-again” face.
