“We’ve got to get rid of some of this junk,” I told my husband. We had begun to move into our new home on a Monday, and by Tuesday, the long awaited basement storage space was overflowing.
That Wednesday, Dave made shelves for the food-storage tuna
and tomato soup. On Thursday, he
installed cupboards for the fruit-filled Mason jars and created an
under-the-stairwell hide-a-way for emptied quarts and pints.
But there was still the question of what to do with items
like the termite-infested carving of a Yellowstone moose and other relics from
long forgotten vacations, not to mention the mate-less candlestick Great Aunt Mildred had crafted from six clay pigeons--stacked, glued, and painstakingly
painted in shades of turquoise and maroon.
“Daryl Hoole says you should throw things away if you haven’t
used them in a year,” I informed my family on Friday. With that, I tucked Jennifer’s satin brocade
jogging shoes in a plastic Hefty bag, along with Michael’s remote-control pogo
stick and six hand-knitted nose-warmers.
Later, I secretly boxed up my husband’s electric toenail
clippers and the expensive jar of perfume my family called “Cesspool #5.”
Somehow the word got out. By Saturday, when the goodwill truck came to
pick up my “donations,” Jennifer had hysterically demanded the return of her
jogging shoes, and Michael had rescued the malfunctioning pogo stick, bouncing erratically out of reach!
Suddenly, everyone had cold noses, and my husband’s toenails
were growing “right through” his running shoes.
I was so mad I almost retrieved the odious perfume, but with
my charitable nature prevailing, I resisted and surreptitiously tossed Aunt Mildred's candlestick into the bag. Tying
the sack, I loaded it on the truck with a great sigh of relief.
On Monday, Dave came home from work an hour late.
“Honey, you’ll never guess what I found at the thrift shop,”
he said, ceremoniously unveiling the object in his hand.
My reaction, an eye-shielding gesture, came too late. Already I had caught a glimpse of six clay pigeons—stacked,
glued, and painstakingly painted in shades of turquoise and maroon.
“We’ve finally got a matching pair,” I lied.
He grinned from ear to ear.
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| I tied the sack with a great sigh of relief! |
