(We figured 12 years was long enough with carpet we hadn't really wanted in the first place - long story, which will come later - and we figured with the upheaval of all else in our life, let's do a home improvement project too.)
This post is not about that though.
As I mentioned earlier, in anticipation of the project, Tarzan and I have been trying to sort through our
Especially when one packs as well as I do and am constantly opening a drawer/door/closet/etc. to find MORE STUFF to sort through.
While cleaning out the bedroom I came across a few boxes of, what is affectionately known in my family, "sentimental jazz." Playbills, ticket stubs, programs, art, kitchy presents, dried flowers, the usual.
On the first layer of one box was a pair of baby shoes.
A pair of baby shoes I had been given by the guy who sold me the shoes I wore to my wedding because "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby."
Over the years I have been tempted to throw them out or give them away SO. Many. Times. Then I packed them in a box, they ended up under the bed and haven't been seen in so long, I forgot to even consider giving them to my sisters when they were having babies.
I already used up my vindication speech on the children's books I saved despite Tarzan telling me we weren't having kids, so why should we take up the space?
This was just hilarious:
This is me and he'll have shoes at least.