When my sons were in grade school, my job required me to be at work at 7:00 a.m. With a 40-minute commute, I left before everyone else in the house got up. So Ken was in charge of breakfast, lunch money, and sending the boys off to school. I had the after-school duties of homework and dinner and so it worked out well.
Trying to put some variety in breakfast, I bought a package of English muffins. After about a week of no one trying them, the muffins were suddenly gone. Great, I thought, they liked them. At the next shopping trip, I bought another package. Within days, they were also gone. So I bought some more, and those too were gone within days.
This pattern continued for a few more weeks until one day Ken said, "Why are you buying these? No one eats them."
"Yes they do. They are always gone when I do the shopping list." I said.
"No, they are not gone. I have been putting them in the freezer because the first package turned green!"
Sure enough, I looked in the freezer in the garage and there were six packages of English muffins. (Don't worry, I was still able to blame Ken because he didn't tell me).
Fast forward to today (we'll skip the reason why I have four bottles of laundry detergent on the top shelf in the laundry room).
I spent yesterday sorting out the drawers in the master bath. I threw out old make-up that failed to make me look like I was 21 again. I sniffed then tossed the many bottles of magic wrinkle cream that not only failed to remove wrinkles on my face, but added wrinkles to my bank account. I found broken barrettes and hair clips that found their way in the trash.
Now, I have long hair, and yet when I look for a brush or comb, I am lucky if I find one. So the next time I am at the market, I buy another big tooth comb or brush. But within a few days, it's gone. It's not in my purse, nor in the car, nor in the drawer for my hair doo-dads. So again, I purchase another one -- sometimes an entire package.
As of yesterday, I have 43 combs and brushes. They were all hiding in the back of the drawers! I think they were planning a mutiny of some type, a comb-ination of sinking their teeth in or brushing me off. Instead of a clean, organized drawer of hair accessories, I have a pile of colorful items stuffed in so tight I can barely shut the drawer.
I am still trying to figure out a way to blame this on Ken.