Our Family's Legend of English Muffins

We are in the process of de-cluttering our house after being here for 25 years, preparing it for sale. We plan to move to Fort Collins, Colorado to be closer to our son and his future bride (wedding is September 16!) . Yesterday, while working on the drawers in the master bathroom, I was reminded of one of our funny family stories called the Legend of the English Muffins. Now what does emptying the drawers in the bathroom and English muffins relate? Stick with me and you will see.

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.