A couple weeks ago we cleaned out our garage. It was terrible. What is it about winter that makes garages total disaster areas? I'm hoping to have a garage sale in the next few weeks [fingers crossed it will happen] and we had to get ourselves organized before it can even be a possibility.
In the process, though, I realized I have a sickness. It's an I-can't-throw-away-a-good-box-phobia. We had a MOUNTAIN of empty boxes. Granted, some of them got set out to go with the trash and Adam just threw them up on the pile instead, so those were easy to throw out. But for some reason, I just can't bring myself to pitch a box that's in good shape, has handles, or could potentially house a present at some point in the future. I think I got this sickness from my mom. She has boxes full of boxes in her basement. I bet she got it from her mom too. Actually, I can guarantee she got it from her mom. It's true, we all become our mothers.
This is the trash pile. It may seem like a lot until you see the keep pile. It's a sickness, I'm telling you!
And the keep pile. At least it's organized now. I actually got rid of a few more after I took this picture. Plus, I "nested" them inside each other so they're much more compact.
Look at me justifying my box sickness! Pathetic. But if you ever need to wrap a present and can't find the right sized box, you can remember my stash in the garage and wish you had kept some yourself.