Friday, January 18, 2013

Experiment

I'm pretty sure he won't read it's, but I'll probably be in trouble if he ever does...

I really dislike clutter. It is the antithesis of everything I stand for. I cannot survive in an environment where there is "stuff" everywhere. (I'm sure Wes just rolled his eyes having sensed that I typed that.) Okay, okay, I'll be honest....I cant live in an environment where there is ANYTHING ANYWHERE. I am slowly being worn down through years of marriage and having a baby, (Why does their stuff seem to multiply?)  but I try to stick to that old adage "a place for everything and everything in its place." 

They say opposites attract...

My husband is a pack-rat. He doesn't like getting rid of ANYTHING! We have every book he has ever read (which, knowing Wes, is a LOT), a pile of t-shirts from high school (yes, high school), and a huge bag of rubber bands because, you never know when you'll need a thousand of them at the SAME TIME. 

Anyway, this drives me CRAZY. Can you tell?
Some things my dear, sweet husband has lovingly done for me (like putting all his shoes in ONE place in the CLOSET, instead of all over the house, which resulted in my hearing the question "Honey, where are my shoes?" way too much.) Others I still fight him tooth and nail, like his clothes. The guy has a lot of clothes he has accumulated throughout his lifetime. And he keeps getting more. The guy comes home with an average of 1 new shirt every 2 weeks from work. To make space in the closet, I instituted a rule in our house a few years back. Get something new, give something away. This goes for me too. So, if I go buy, say, 3 shirts, I have to choose 3 old shirts to give away. When He came home with his 9th shirt, I lovingly reminded him he needed to give away some shirts. Wes has a list of his biggest pet peeves. I'll give you the rundown:

1. Talking on the phone to a machine
2. People cutting him off in traffic
3. Commercials
4. Valets in the bathroom
5. Being asked to give away clothes

He HATES giving away clothes. Every now and then I go through the closet and ask, "when was the last time you wore this?" he then acts like this is the only shirt he has ever owned and fights for it as if it were essential to his existence. To which I reply, "I bet you wouldn't even know it was gone!" Do you see where I am going with this?

Needless to say, some of his shirts have gone "missing." If he actually notices that they are gone, he can have them back. I'm betting he won't miss any of them. 

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