The Basket.

Ben's surprise blog post was wonderful. No joke, I think I teared up about 500 billion times whenever I would think or read or re-read it. It was precious. I'm a lucky girl.

Ben's post, however, did bring up a VERY important story that I MUST tell you. One which I cannot believe I have failed to tell you. Until now. When, I correct my absence from the blog...AND tell you a story. How perfect, right?

I'm sure you know the girls who change a thousand times before living to go to the grocery store, work, church, dinner with friends. Do you know that girl? Well, if you don't, look no further. It's me. I'm THAT girl. It's embarrassing.

I'm also the girl who not ONLY changes a thousand time, I also leave evidence. All over the entire room - you will find various piles of clothing and shoes and everything else. I can't help it. If I have two minutes to change and have to decide between: super cute outfit or picking up clothes. UM - HELLO. I'll take ONE super cute outfit.

My other half, Ben, is OCD. Yes, the man is a neat-freak. Love him dearly, but his OCD-ness once scared me so bad, I almost broke up with him when we were dating. True story. It didn't take long into our marriage for Ben to realize several things:
1. Our bedroom floor would always display the remains of my frantic search for super cute outfit.
2. His OCD-ness could not handle the chaotic-aftermath to finding super cute outfit.
So, he brought in re-enforcements. (Because marriage is all about compromise!) He introduced me to the basket. This basket would hold all my abandoned outfits. He was nervous - could one basket save our marriage? Could it be the solution to my, *COUGH*, "problem"?

It was more than a solution. It was a drastic life change. Now, if I can't find anything to wear, Ben refers to the basket (it's his cheaper solution to my ever present plea: "I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR! I MUST GO SHOPPING").

The basket. How we love it.