I know you were all stunned with the before and after pictures of my closet cleaning adventure.

The adventure continues! Hubby's closet was my next target. In fact, I was so anxious to start on it that I forgot to get a before picture of it. (I hear all those disappointed groans out there. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise.)

I'm not sure what got into me, but after dinner last night I just started pulling things down from the shelf and completely out of his closet. Once EVERYTHING from the shelf and floor was laying around our bedroom, I wondered how we had gotten it all in there. Two boxes of clothes, several packages of socks (most unopened), old t-shirts, old workshirts and workpants, about a dozen pairs of jeans, a high chair, a small potty training potty (unused, don't you know), four pairs of shoes, three large duffle-type bags, and The Cowboy Boots.

That's right, folks. He finally parted with The Cowboy Boots. (Can I get an Amen?)

Now, I've known this man for 14 years and I have never seen him wear these boots except when I remind him they're in the closet. I clean out my closet a lot more frequently than his closet. Let's say, though, for grins and giggles, that I've sorted through (read as "actively targeted items to be given away") his closet every 18 months or so. That would mean that we have had "The Cowboy Boot" conversation around nine times. (Possibly only six times. I know there were a couple of instances where it just didn't pay to ask him about The Cowboy Boots.)

The Cowboy Boot conversation goes like this:
Me: Honey, can we please get rid of these cowboy boots? You never wear them.
Hubby: No way! Do you know how much those boots cost?
Me: Um, yeah, but you never wear them. You probably can't even get your big toe in there anymore.
Hubby: They fit me! I'll show you.

Then he dusts them off and proceeds to proves me wrong by grunting and wincing and cramming his size 13 foot into the boot (both boots if he really wants to make a point), walks around a bit, struggles to take the boot(s) off and puts the pair back in his closet.

Last night, the conversation was no different. Shoveling a huge pile of t-shirts aside, he perched himself on the edge of the bed and, once again grinned, grunted, winced and attempted to cram his tootsies into The Cowboy Boot.

Guess what, Cinderella? The Cowboy Boot didn't fit, and you ain't no princess.

The final "score": Cleaning my closet yielded 2.5 garbage bags. Hubby's closet yielded a whopping 6.5 garbage bags. He finally ok'd the "release" of a large number of t-shirts (we now have more than 30 newly available hangers!), most of the jeans, one pair of shoes, and The Cowboy Boots. (Hallelujah!)

Our bathroom linen closet is next on the list. I might wait to do that this weekend. Maybe, I'll finally take the child-proof cabinet locks off the cabinets. They no longer serve any purpose except to annoy the parents. I'm sure you're all breathless with anticipation. Stay tuned. I won't disappoint you. Hey! Wait! Where are you going?! Come back!

current entry
previous
next