I have come to the conclusion, after 21 years of marriage, that my husband is a collector, messy, and maybe even a Stage 3 hoarder. He saves napkins with little notes written in his fine, unreadable handwriting and then there are the receipts and business cards and brochures in messy little stacks on any flat surface in our house. They also appear to breed, as the stacks become haphazardly tall and they eventually are moved to another flat surface.
I am amazed that he even finds things when he needs them. Maybe he doesn't and he just buys another one because whatever he's looking for is under a pile of other tools.
I decided one day a few years ago that I was going to organize his tools. I started sorting through them, trying to hang them up in an orderly fashion. He has a nifty piece of wallboard with holes in it on his workbench. Perfect to stick a hook into and presto, those hammers will never be lost. When I decided to quit, accepting the idea that it was never going to be all that organized,. I counted 5 paint can openers, 3 hammers, bags and bags of screws, nuts, and bolts, some fresh from Home Depot and never used. Good grief, we could eliminate a bunch of the clutter if we just donated all the duplicates.
I try and throw out things that are broken or falling apart, but he's onto me. He digs through the garbage after I've very stealthily wheeled the garbage can to the curb.
The worst thing he ever dumpster dived for was the infamous green extension cord. In his haste to trim some bushes in the back yard (we were having company and apparently they might look out the window of our messy house and notice the shaggy looking bushes) he cut the plug end off. Whappa whappa, then silence as the poor green extension cord died.
But not dead, no indeed. Mr. Husband (I won't say his name because then he'll bring more stuff home.) informed me that the extension cord could easily be fixed. Off he went to Home Depot and bought a new end to the extension cord.
He sat and watched TV and successfully attached the new end that plugs in the wall plug. He held it up to me and praised his fix it skills. Then we both noticed. He had attached the same end that was on the other end. So basically you could potentially plug the extension cord into the top prongs of an outlet and then plug the other end into the bottom socket. What would that do to the power in our house? I'm guessing, because I am not an electrician, but I would imagine we'd be in the dark, literally.
Mad at his mistake, he flung the cord on top of the washing machine and went about his other chores. I flipped it into the outside trash can and went to find more stuff to throw in there, like the overflowing kitchen trash can. Before I could get back to the trash can, he was pulling the green, double sided pronged hazard out of the trash can. "I can fix this," and off to Home Depot he went.
He sat in the family room, watching TV that night, mending his poor green extension cord. He pulled the new end out of the bag so he could attach it and said a colorful word I have, in very rare situations, heard him utter. Throwing the extension cord away would seem the logical thing to do. I mean, what are we talking about, a $5-10 item they sell in different colors at Target or Home Depot.
Instead of flinging the dratted thing into the trash, I went upstairs and I scooped the cat's litter box into a big black trash bag. Then in went the green extension cord, tied the bag in a knot and flung it in the wheeling trash can. Done.
Several weeks passed and he went in search of his project, the green extension cord. "Hey honey, have you see the green extension cord?" I froze as my mind spun the different things I could tell him that would make him less angry. So I did what most people would do when trying to tidy up. I told him it must be in the garage somewhere.
A lie? Yes, but really he didn't specify that specific extension cord. We have lots. The next day I browsed the selection of green extension cords at Target and when I returned home, I flung it on the top of the washing machine.
All's well in our messy garage. I promise that if you take the plunge and decide to look for something take a friend, or your cell phone. You might be lost for years in that clutter that one day will be a walking tour of all things collected. In the meantime, can I borrow an extension cord?
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