Fresh Air

Unpacking boxes teaches you a lot about yourself. Like, I learned that I have less clothes than anyone in my family. And I learned that I have a lot of extra blankets. I have enough tea to open my own store. And, sadly, my husband was right about the addiction I have to air fresheners.

I like them.

I know I like them, but I have been defending myself against his accusations of excess for years.
"You know you have a lot of those at home," he told me at Wal-Mart after I tossed a package of plug in air fresheners into the cart.
"I only have a few," I informed him.
"You have more than a few."
"Nuh-uh." I argue brilliantly.

Then I unpacked a box. Then I wished I had left it packed. Because I finally had to admit that Mike was right, and I did, indeed, have more than a few.

I'm not going to talk about the box I opened yesterday that was oddly similar to this one. I already admitted I have a problem.

But I like them.

I do not plan on getting help.