When I am done with something, I am done with it. I will throw out a perfectly good measuring cup simply because I think I am not going to use it anymore (this example is based on a true story that Hubby just loves to use against me whenever he gets the chance). Even if my throwing out means that I have to re-buy the item in a few months, I simply don’t care. I don’t like clutter, do not like to keep things indefinitely that I am not currently using and I do not form emotional attachments to inanimate objects.
Hubby is the complete opposite. Hubby will hold onto cell phones the size of bricks because, “You never know.” Never know what, you may ask. Well, don’t ask me because apparently I will never know what it is I may never know.
While I generally don’t like this, I respect Hubby and we do have to live together in a democratic type of arrangement, so I let my love for him override my annoyance of his Rubbermaid storage containers filled with stuff that, in my short-sightedness, I see no use for.
Although I am reticent to admit it, Hubby's pack rat syndrome has been really, really helpful. A few months ago, the power supply for my laptop died—and my battery only lasts 30 minutes. Of course I had deadlines to meet and started freaking out. Hubby went to his trusty Rubbermaid kingdom and opened a box that was filled with indistinguishable wires. He pulled one out after a mere glance and plugged it into my laptop. A spare power supply from goodnessknowswhenorwhat. Suddenly, this white knight’s pack ratting took on a whole new light. He seemed in that moment, almost God-like to me and I doubted my impetuous garbage flinging ways for, like, a day. Then I promptly forgot how he saved me by being a pack rat and started getting annoyed again.
Until this weekend. This weekend we spent some time putting my office together. We assembled bookcases, mounted a television, rearranged a room and set up a cozy seating area filled with Eames era antiques. We collect Eames era antiques—tiki, rattan, Hawaiiana—we love it all and we are always looking for a deal. A few years ago at an open market, we scored a 50 year old rattan corner table and chairs set that would normally cost anywhere from $500-$1,000 for only $150. The catch? The chairs came without cushions. So what, we get cushions made for about $300 and we still end up ahead.
Except that we didn’t have to. Hubby, in his infinite wisdom had apparently saved all the cushions from an old sofa and love seat set that I thought we had thrown out. It turns out, Hubby had thrown out the sofa and love seat, but not the cushions. Hubby thought, “Maybe we could use these cushions sometime. I mean, you never know.”
You know what Hubby? I think you’re right. You really never do know.
Yo
Welcome to my office, please have a seat. I'll be right with you.