Does anyone read blogs anymore? 

The post format has changed, I'm nervous!


I got married, yup. The mister's out with friends, so here I am, blogging on a Friday night! Here's two somewhat funny stories to help motivate me to get back on the blog bus.


#1) Nick has too much stuff according to me. My inner need to keep all things clean and put 
away has come out in full force now that I have a husband. Boxes of what I consider pure hoarder's crap keep appearing, and I want to cry silently into my pillow. 


The other night we were getting ready to go clean the temple, and Nick kindly asked me to help him go through his boxes and help him throw things away. This was both ground- and heartbreaking. The idea of going through boxes of things such as his childhood toys sounds like Amy torture. The fact that he might throw things away sounds like Amy heaven. 


I tread cautiously and said I was not okay with helping because my default setting has been set to throw away for the past 15 years. I also backed that up with evidence of my complete lack of feeling sentimental for anything. He said he admired me for these qualities, and he needed help throwing stuff away. I responded with a safe conjecture that if I helped, I would throw something away, and it would secretly hurt his feelings, and he would bring it up at a family reunion years later. 


He laughed and said the last thing his Grandmother said to him before she went back to California after our wedding was, "You need to throw stuff away." I never officially said yes to helping him go through his stuff.


As I'm tying my shoes, Nick mentioned that there is one thing he's sentimental about. He started to get into a story about how when he was little, he had a dog, and it died, so he kept the dog's collar. Midsentence, Nick stops, "Why are you shaking your head?" My body betrayed me! I didn't even realize I was already responding via body language to how I felt about this confession. I apologized, and he kept going. He was verge emotional and finished with, "I also saved the rock my dog died next to."


I was so proud of myself for keeping it together and neither laughing nor gagging.




#2) I laughed really hard behind Nick's back today. 

After smushing spiders in the looked-like-it's-never-ever-been-deep-cleaned-before bathroom and getting scared, I finally went and got Nick and asked for his help. I was really nervous about some of the small spaces, so I begged him to do it. "I've already killed four big spiders," when truthfully they weren't too big, and technically one was dead already because I sprayed him to hell with clorox.

So eventually, Nick was bent down scrubbing by our shower, so I went to the kitchen, grabbed a garbage sack and came back. I literally was gone for a max of 20 seconds.

Once I walked back into the bathroom, he whipped around and said, "You cannot leave again!" 

I stammered, "Okay ... I just grabbed a garbage sack..." holding up the garbage as evidence.

He pointed behind him and said, "Well, there was a spider sneaking up on me from behind, 
and you weren't here to warn me!"