The Coffee Cup Caper

My husband has a problem. He is a hoarder. Truth be told, this is not so much his problem as it is mine - He is totally fine with his hoarding ways. If it were up to him, he would have an entire house and yard filled with the treasures he holds dear. Treasure, you ask? Well, I'm glad you inquired. Let me define "treasure".

Rocks. To some, they are a part of the landscape. To others, they are interesting to look at, but nothing more. And to the women of the western world, the only rocks that matter are those that sparkle. But to Mr. Greene, rocks are something to be squirreled away and stored for an indefinite period of time. You never know when a rock may come in handy. One day, I was minding my own business as I was getting into the shower. As I opened up the shower door, I was met with a startling scene. Right there, in my very small shower, was a very large boulder. Not your run of the mill rock, mind you. Oh no. It was a boulder. The kind that you worry might crush you in your vehicle were there to be a landslide as you were driving by. The kind the mob ties to your foot when you are sent to sleep with the fishes. The kind that has no business ever being in your shower.

Unless, you are a Greene. Then all bets are off and boulders may be found on any given day in the shower.

When confronted with the obvious question, Mr. Greene offered this answer in defense of the shower boulder. "Babe. It's a beautiful rock, and it was dirty, so I put it in the shower to clean it off." Ah, yes, of course. What a logical explanation to such an illogical situation. So shimmy into the shower I did, where I proceeded to shampoo alongside said boulder.

Plants. These are another huge item to be hoarded in our household. Now, you might say to yourself, but Brooke! Plants are lovely. One really cannot have too many plants. They add so much to the landscape. To that point, I must say that though plants are indeed beautiful to look at, they have the potential to take over. I have seen Little Shop of Horrors and that horrible Mark Wahlberg movie that was so bad I can't remember the title. But the plants killed people, and that's all you need to know about that. Now while these plants Mr. Greene insists upon cultivating will most likely not kill anybody, they are indeed taking over. A couple of true stories:

I once looked in the closet where the water heater is kept. I don't know why I did that, as the water heater section of the house is not my domain. However, look I did, and it was there that I found three plants huddled together in the dark for no particular reason. Then there was that blissful period in our marriage when we lived in a house with a his and hers bathroom. He didn't use my bathroom, and I didn't step foot into his. It was wonderful. But one day, being the good wifey that I am (albeit slightly nosey and a tad controlling) I decided to clean his bathroom. Upon opening the shower door (why I still do that after the boulder incident, I do not know - I am a glutton for punishment) I discovered a lovely tropical plant growing right there in the confines of tile and plaster.

And yet one more true plant story. We had finally made it to our new home in San Diego, and set about upacking the contents of our UHaul. I wheeled in a kitchen cart, and in front of my mom, dad, and sister, I opened the cupboard doors of this cart. Out fell a plant, spilling dirt onto the kitchen floor. We all stared at this, a bit perplexed, and at that very moment in strolled Mr. Greene. He took one look at the scene before him, and said these haunting words: "Sweet! My succulent!". That's my hoarding husband in a nutshell.

There are more items he loves to gather and store for indefinite periods of time, but at the moment the most infuriating might be the coffee cups. I wake up in the morning and stumble into the kitchen, bleary eyed and cursing as I am no gem to be around that early. I reach for the coffee cup, and to my dismay I come up empty handed! Why, you ask? Please refer to the picture posted below. Mr. Greene likes to stash coffee cups in his car until there are no coffee cups to be found in the cupboard. These were the most recent cups to be recovered in the rescue effort.

I have tried to combat the hoarding many different ways, but I will save that for another day. Most involve tough love and dumpster diving, but for now I have attempted humor in a desperate plea for the restoration of coffee cup order in the Greene household.

Love,

The Coffee Cups