It's time to say good-bye to the car with one rearview mirror, a sagging ceiling, and license plates never fully attached to the front of the car. A recent longish-trip in the car disgusted my husband so much that he tepidly cruised a car lot looking for options. He didn't get out, mind you. He just looked. He equates haggling with salesmen as much fun as dancing or making "small talk". So I did the dirty work and finally, we are ready to part. This is what Bob unloaded from his car:
-27 pens (18 blue ones from Winona Health)
-1 dried apple core
-8 pencils (most with no erasers, only 2 sharp enough to use)
-1 used lunch container with unidentifiable contents
-1 men's spring jacket missing for 2 years
-5 toddler sized mittens (1 actual pair)
-1 sign that reads "Dr. Wilfahrt, You are a Physician SUPERSTAR!"
-1 foamy model colon that looks oddly...used
-2 manuals for cardiac pediatric emergeny training
-1 copy of Plutarch's Lives
-1 tub of Cranium model clay (from the game Cranium)
-2 packages of insulation
I mention this because for a guy who leaves between 6:30 and 7:15 every morning and arrives 12 hours later, making no stops unless it's for milk or a hair cut during lunch, I found these findings intriguing. But I can't really complain. As I unloaded our dying refrigerator the other day, I counted 41 different condiments, several cans of food just chilling in there (never opened or used), 2 dinosaur magnets, and 2 empty baggies just floating around for no apparent reason. Had I not noticed the condiments creeping up on me? Had I not noticed that Ben likes to store things in the fridge just for fun? I realize there is some cheesy self-help philosophy that says that just because you live in s*** doesn't mean you actually see it.
Oh well. The contents of the car and the fridge have now been pared down. While it it feels good, I am sure it will only be a matter of time before I stop seeing what's in front of me and I stop looking.