We Belong Together

I've mentioned some of my OCD shenanigans in earlier posts. What I failed to mention is that I've also gone to such extremes as using my beloved label-maker to identify the correct function for each shelf and bin in the fridge. 

I like things sorted, classified, ordered. I like to know where to put things, and where to find them. Amazingly enough, I have found a like-minded partner in Steve. Early in our wedded life, when we were so broke that we sometimes sold books in order to pay for the groceries when funds ran low between paycheques, we got very excited about buying colour-coded hanging files and tabs, so we could organize the filing cabinet that we painted bright red.

What? Well, of course we still have it. And of course, it's still colour-coded.


Two peas in a pod, we are. Of course, that doesn't stop us from ribbing each other. He has given me a hard time about the whole fridge-shelf-labelling incident, for example. Well, now it's my turn.

Today, while I was at work, Steve had the day "off" - which means, he worked plenty hard on stuff around the house. Top of his list: putting drawers into the kitchen pantry. This pantry was narrow and deep and virtually impossible to find anything in, beyond the first couple of cans or boxes. It made making a grocery list very hit-and-miss.

But now? Look!


Oooh! Aaaah!

But, what's that? Look closer:



Well, I'll be. He's labelled the drawers.

Yes, indeed. We belong together like can[ned] beans, tomatoes, and pasta sauce.