A love story

For months and into a year I've had to put up with crap stacked on the futon. Stuff crammed into the closets. Shit, really, in every tiny corner of the basement.

Then the girls (finally) got a bit older, and, therefore, didn't need the mounds of baby toys, clothes and whatever else, enough to supply the population of India.

Then we had a garage sale.

Then water leaked into our basement, molding the old carpet.

So I had to pack up the basement. But this was an opportunity, not a sentence, even if it felt like it sometimes.

Weeks more of waiting, but Friday, the new carpet was installed.

And I organized and unpacked and sorted.

And we have a new basement, with a (sorta) toy room and an over-organized, clutter-free life. At least underground.

My type-A, anal itch for putting things in their place is finally, blissfully scratched and twitterpated.