It is a disease that has been passed down from generation to generation.
My mom has it and now I have it.
It consumes my life and my husband has no patience for it.
Yes it is true…I love boxes. When I see a useful box I must keep it. Forever and ever. I must store it in my closet for a later date where I may alter it, put a gift in it, store things in it or just stare and it and say “isn’t that a pretty box?”
We were both positive the bag contained diamond rings or millions of dollars…
So I looked both ways to make sure no one else was going to challenge me for it. I got the bag and ran back to the car to give it to my mom. She carefully opened the bag with a huge sense of anticipation only to find…..
DOG POOP!!
This isn’t a disease I share with my friends. However it must be written all over my face and the symptoms must be obvious to the world around me because the other day my friend said, “I bought these and saw this box and thought of you, here you go.”
Hmmm….I wonder what I will do with it. It is a fantastic box isn’t it?