Our garage is a nightmare. We can not even park our car in it. My husband is a pack rat and saves everything that he "might use someday." He has tons of electrical connections, the wheel off this or that, bolts, and items that I am not even sure what they are. One of his friends actually called him a "hoarder" a few weeks ago. I do have to say in his defense that he is not quite that bad.
I have saved nearly every baby toy and piece of clothing from our daughter in hopes of clothing and entertaining a second child someday. I did at least donate some baby items to a few young mothers that really needed baby girl clothing. We were blessed with so much baby clothing before C was born that we barely had to buy anything for the first year and a half of her life, so I had plenty to share. Needless to say, our garage is full.
This morning I got some sort of a wild hair. I told my husband that I would help clean out the garage, if he was seriously going to get rid of some stuff. I was not just moving shit around for the fourth or fifth time in as many years. His eyes lit up as if I had just offered to give him a blow job.
We have spent most of the day removing and sorting items from our garage. It looks as though part of some one's house barfed on our lawn and driveway. Throughout the day I have had to turn away car after car of hopeful yard sale seekers with a promise of a future yard sale to come. Unfortunately it is now 7:30 P.M. and we are not even close to being ready to put items back in our garage. I think my poor husband is going to have to camp out there tonight and keep an eye on things. Even worse, I think I am going to have to spend tomorrow finishing up the job. It was my idea, what the hell was I thinking?
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