When I came home one afternoon, a large box sat on the porch. It said it contained frozen beef, but I knew better. I would have preferred frozen beef.
The contents are, as usual, puzzling in that "what was she thinking" aspect.
- 3 Dr. Seuss books (ok, one is "How the Grinch Stole Christmas, that's cool)
- 2 random children's books (one is a cookbook for boys and girls... oooh)
- 6 pairs of black socks (3 new, 3 obviously used... euuuuw)
- 1 sweater (hubby hates sweaters, and it's used to boot)
- 1 jacket from hubby's high school (too small for him, too big for me)
- 1 magazine with a bookmark to a page that explains how getting a government clearance means big money and promotion... um, doi? Been there, done that, which goes to show they have no clue what we do.
- 1 binder full of pictures of people we have no idea who they are
- 1 box that contains a ziplock baggie of pictures of people we have no idea who they are.
The contents are boxed and ready to go to the storage facility, except for the "used" items, which went in the trash. I still can't believe we pay monthly storage fees for all their junk.
