We did it! The Saturday before Labor Day, we cleaned out the garage.
And when I say “we,” I actually mean, I presented hubby with the fantastic great idea and worked with him for about three hours. I never realized he enjoys working alone.
After three hours he said something like, “Thanks Jan, you can go mulch or weed or something — I can finish up here.”
It was about 150 degrees in the garage that day.
Maybe my swift cleaning skills were making him swelter. Or maybe my questions were beginning to get on his nerves. They were obviously cleanup-related questions.
“Hey Steve, do we want to keep this extra luggage? “
“No, let’s give it to someone who will use it.”
“Holy Toledo. I haven’t used these garment bags since we went to India the first time in 1997. It still has the ‘Kingfisher Airline’ tag on it. And this one has an old Bearskin Airlines — what would’ve possessed me to take a garment bag on a fishing trip to northwest Ontario, for Pete’s sake?”
Steve shrugged at my rhetorical question, as I piled them into the ever-growing give-away pile.
“Hey my eighth-grade CYO cheerleader trophy got beheaded. Do you want me to toss your stuff in the trash too?”
“OK. Do you want to get rid of the Bowflex and rower?“
“Keep the rower, the Bowflex can go.”
“How about the foosball table? We don’t use it much anymore.”
“The old aquarium? We haven’t used it since the girls used it as a nightlight when they were little.”
“I want to keep it.”
“Why?” I whined.
“Because I want to set it back up in the house or my office.”
“OK. Hey, do you want me to go through the extra bee-hive stuff?”
“No, I’ll do it when I get to that side of the garage. Why don’t you go through your gardening stuff?”
“What? That’s all good stuff that I’m keeping. I’m going to go get some mulch. See you later.”
And that’s how the garage got cleaned.
Janet Hommel Mangas, the third of seven children, grew up on the east side of Greenwood. The Center Grove area resident and her husband are the parents of three daughters. Send comments to email@example.com.