For instance, as a girl - like every horse crazy girl - I collected Breyer model horses. I wasn't the extremist who never took the models out of the box, or even saved the boxes for that matter. I played with them. The neighbor girl and I would stuff our horses into pillow cases and carry them back and forth between our houses like little Santa Clauses on Christmas Eve.
I still have all my Breyers. A few scattered around the house for decoration, the rest eagerly waiting for when my Brown Eyed Girl is old enough to play with them.
In the late 90's I was overwhelmed by the Beanie Baby craze. I loved those darn little bean bag critters.
At some point in college, I realized I was destined to be the crazy cat lady surrounded in Beanie Babies. For my own social success, I decided it was time to stop the insanity and box the critters up - of course I still have them... tag protectors on every one, carefully wrapped in plastic bags, and stored in Rubbermade tubs.
Someday they might be worth a fortune, right?!?!
I know I am a clothes whore. I have a complete wardrobes ranging from full term pregnancy to thirty pounds lighter than now.
My goal weight.
Curse childbirth and the secretary spread!
I have a hard time parting with things.
Like clothes I know I will never wear again.
Memorabilia from college.
Bath gels from holidays past - way past.
Impractical shoes - some of which I don't know why I bought them in the first place.
Our Brown Eyed Girl's masterpieces.
My Handy Man thinks I have a problem.
All of these things are completely reasonable as I try to convince him.
Okay, maybe the Beanie Babies should visit EBay.
However after last weekend's new furniture adventure, I don't think he has room to talk.
Someone has been toting his headgear around since Junior High.
And he thinks I have a problem!
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