ManBoxes

Subject: Missing Person Notice
Date: 2/24/02009 3:11:05 AM Eastern Standard Time
From: babblingbrook@pink.com
To: missinginfo@NorthernVAPolice.gov

Hello? Helllooo?! I'm looking for my friend HausFrau.... It's been almost two weeks since her last blog and I'm afraid she may have fallen off the face of the earth (or into one of those ManBoxes she's always complaining about) ... Any assistance you can give in this matter would be greatly appreciated.

Muchas Gracias! ~Babs

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Oh. Uh . . . Hi. (Insert sheepish finger wave.) I'm still here.

And, I am happy to report that I haven't quite fallen off the face of this planet. As a matter of fact, the Haus is looking quite spiffy for it being only M-Day +7. I would be farther down the road to PCS Recovery, but my world didn't just stop to allow me ample time for box diving & knick-knack placing & picture hanging.

And, quite to my dismay, the floors are not sweeping themselves, the Laundry Fairy has failed to show up again this week & What Not to Wear comes on twice a day every day! Additionally, we are still roughing it with one vehicle & I'm playing chauffeur getting everyone else out into the real world to do important tasks like earn a paycheck and get an education.

I have been making steady progress & have dealt with most boxes that I give a hoot about (Polish pottery, kitchen gadgets, candles & computer cables). I know I'm still missing a few important items (like my tennis shoes so I could exercise if I really wanted to) but I just haven't consumed enough wine in one sitting had the time to venture into the basement & garage to successfully complete Operation: Sneakers & Other Semi-Important Stuff Like MiniMe's Pink Sparkly Ballet Flats That She Forgot About & Hasn't Mentioned in Two Weeks.

The sheer number of boxes in the basement & garage is scary and to make matters worse, I think the movers swiped my contraband 1/2 of a Xanax tablet that I had put back for just for this reason. I had it in a ziplock baggie in my Land's End jacket pocket & it mysteriously disappeared between Brussels & DC.

And, I didn't take it. Although, I probably should have. Especially when I was digging through boxes, stressing myself out, looking for my tennis shoes so I could exercise & reduce stress.

I could have also used it a few days ago, when I was on the phone with a friend (Hi, BBLady!) stressing about boxes & shoes. I totally complained casually mentioned that it would be necessary to maneuver 50+ ManBoxes to even begin to find boxes that may contain sparkly shoes. Man overheard this most subtle reference & begged to disagree. If I remember correctly he protested I was "not being nice" & argued with me about the actual number of boxes & claimed that maybe (probably, most likely) there are only 10 boxes at the very most of ManCrap that might (but probably not) need to be sorted through & downsized.

Not being nice? Nice has nothing to do with it. I was just stating a fact.

Did he forget that numbers are my friends & I am very rarely wrong when it comes to any kind of quantity, measurement or date?

Since I was accused of not being nice, now I want to know just how many ManBoxes are hanging out around the Haus. I say we all put our thinking caps on & play a little numbers game. Let's estimate - jelly beans in a jar fashion - how many ManBoxes are in the garage & basement.

For the record, we are not being not nice. We are using our logical skills & mathematical talents to solve a problem. We HausFrauen are keeping our brains sharp just in case we ever have to do any real thinking. Like deciding what to cook for dinner. Or how long much water to use in the washing machine.

ManBoxes are defined as boxes that contain nothing of mine. These are the boxes I open at every duty station, stress about & shove in a corner because I don't know what to do with them. These are the boxes that Man insists (at every duty station) he will deal with "later". These are the boxes that Man wants me to quit talking about. These are the boxes I think have no purpose other than to grate on my last PCS nerve.

These are the boxes that define our marriage.

Just joking.

Back to the boxes . . . the white boxes were packed in Belgium & do not qualify as ManBoxes.

Here is what's in storage in the sub-basement. I'll take responsibility for the teaching crap (4-5 boxes) & leftover baby stuff (see the taped up Huggies box?). Here's a hint: the 9 boxes in the front are the ManBoxes of which I speak.

Here's another angle so that you can see how far back the pile goes. Notice the brown pile behind the white boxes.

And, here's what's in the garage. ALL of these boxes have been in storage for almost 4 years & some have not been sorted through since 2000. The white boxes in the front are either empty or contain donate items. Of the brown boxes . . . they're not mine . . .

So, how many boxes are ManBoxes? Just hit the comment button with your guess. I'll have Laze-E help me count & the closest guess wins a prize.

The prize . . . it's a surprise. But I will tell you, it will be found in one of our boxes!

Note to Man: Hi, Babe. Love you! (Insert finger wave) Don't take it personally. Sometimes a Frau just has to BoxBlog and get it off her chest. Especially if someone happens to bogart her remaining half a chill pill. I noticed MiniMe was peacefully sleeping & quite calm when I came home from Bunco last night. There wouldn't be any sort of connection, would there?