our dvd player has been kaputt for several weeks now and as i just saw a piolo back-to-back before it went bonkers (no thanks to my dearest son), i didn’t really miss it. but when i realized that it’s still within the warranty period, i urged hubby to find the receipt and get the thing replaced. after afterall, even if dvd players come so cheap nowadays, it’s still not easy to find a codefree one like ours. after several weeks hearing him say “yeah, later/tomorrow/on the weekend”, i got fed up, muttering how the man can’t find 2 minutes to find that slip of paper. so i took the bull by the horns, and opened the drawer where he keeps the receipts. uh-oh. after rummaging through cash-register slips and receipts for every single article he bought within the last four years — books, grocery, beer, socks, plants, carrots from the weekend market, and every single liter of gas/diesel from the filling station — i can’t help but ask why he kept all of them in the first place! unbelievable! gosh, he’s not intending to return a faulty boxer shorts 3 years after the purchase, or?

i mean, i love the guy and he has a brilliant mind (even if it’s enclosed in the hardest skull i’ve ever had to butt my own steel-encased one against). but there’s no denying it: a first-rate packrat, that’s what i married!

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