Not Content With the Contents

My Dearly Beloved complains about all the stuff in the attic every time whenever he goes up to look for something.  I complain because he can’t find things that I’m certain we’ve stored up there.  For instance, this morning I discovered the neatly labeled Fall and Thanksgiving carton that he hadn’t been able to find in time for us to use.   I’ve since combined all the fall decor in a  large plastic container with a bright green lid now.  Maybe next year the witches and the angels won’t emerge at the same time.

Alas, this box, labeled by my DB,  was empty when I came upon it in the attic.  I have no clue as to what it contained.

I feel reasonably sure it’s not Dog Glass.

Anybody. . . ?

 

 

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4 thoughts on “Not Content With the Contents

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