Why I NEVER Throw Things Away

I apologize in advance to my male readers, but I just had to share today's adventure because it's SO me. Feel free to bail out at any time, guys....

Just before it was time to leave for the gym this morning, I discovered that I was all out of sanitary napkins. I had bought one of those industrial- size packs that only seems endless. I went fishing around in the depths of the bag, and my hand came up empty. Not to worry, surely there was a pad back in the cabinet somewhere. I tossed out old hair spray cans, hair gels, manicure kits, and dried up nail polishes. I found all sorts of interesting things that I haven't used in years, but not one pad.

I still wasn't too worried. You know how you often find a stray pad hanging out in a suitcase you haven't used for awhile? I was certain I'd seen a pad or two in a suitcase recently. I searched through the suitcases, overnight bags, and carry-on bags in our closet to no avail. It seemed there wasn't a sanitary napkin in the entire house.

At this point, I could have headed to the store, but that would have meant missing at least part of my gym class. I stood with my hand on my hip, brow furrowed, as I considered my options. All I needed, actually, was some sort of makeshift pantiliner. Suddenly, my mind settled on that old pack of Curity nursing pads up on the closet shelf. Was it still there?

Yep! I stretched up on my tiptoes and pulled down the box. It was half full. The shape was all wrong, of course, but a pair of scissors would fix that easily enough. But what about adhesive? I knew I'd be going through all sorts of contortions in my Pilates class, and there was no chance that a modified nursing pad would stay put.

I didn't have time to look for Duck tape, and I knew Scotch tape wouldn't do it. Hmmm.... I remembered the old Stayfree commercials: "No belts! No pins!" What I needed was some safety pins. I ran to Ethan's bathroom and looked on the top shelf of his vanity. Yes!!! There were two safety pins that had come with the house. They were adorned with brightly colored beads--remember that fad from a decade or so ago?

I found my rattiest pair of underwear and pinned the little pad from the outside, at both ends (after I'd stripped off the pretty beads). Perfect! For a moment, I wondered what might happen if one of the safety pins came open during Pilates. I decided to take the risk; the pins might be 20 years old, but they looked pretty sturdy.

As I scooped up Allyson and took off for class, I could hear Bill's dry voice in my head: "In the amount of time it took you to concoct a plan, round up the raw materials, and make that pad, you could have gone to Walmart Market and back."

Well, maybe, I admitted mentally. But now I had the double pleasure of having saved some money and having justified my compulsion to save EVERYTHING. Who knew that I'd find a use for my old breast pads and two beaded safety pins--at the same time?

Later, I was washing dishes when I felt a sharp pinch near... well, let's just say in the seat of my pants. Ouch! Was it the safety pin? A quick check assured me that both pins were still firmly fastened. Maybe I had imagined it.... No, about five minutes later I felt another sharp pinch on the back of my knee. I yanked up my pantleg and found a fire ant! What are the odds that I would be bitten in the crotch by a fire ant in my kitchen on the only day I ever remember having safety pins hooked to my underwear? Seriously!

I'm still not sure if I'm going to tell Bill about my little adventure. I figured he'd ask why the box of breast pads and the scissors were lying on the vanity, but he didn't say one word. He probably saw them, wondered, and thought, "Nah...."

I'm sorry to say that on my afternoon trip to the grocery store, I forgot to buy more pads. Darn it! Oh well, there are about 15 more breast pads left.