Dividing the spoils

We are having a Garage Sale on Saturday morning. I’ve never had one before, but in preparation for building work, (freeing up space in the garage/basement), I thought it might be a good idea. My husband isn’t so keen.

I am a “chucker outer” by nature. Comes with being on the move for 12 years of my adult life. At one point, I could get my life in three suitcases. Alas, no more.

As I pointed out to my Better Half, “Who is going to be lumbered with clearing out our house when we both kick the bucket?” We don’t have kids, so some poor soul will have to do it.

Now, I’m not planning to shuffle off this mortal coil any time soon, but I am keen to create a bit of space.

But there is a sore point. “His and Hers” garlic crushers. I brought one into the marriage, so did my husband. We both swear that we both brought the steel one to the marital kitchen. The other fancier, (and more useless one) we have both disowned.

I actually remember where I bought the best one – here I hold the advantage, as my husband doesn’t remember where it came from. But as he uses this garlic crusher more than I do - I’m not a fan of the noxious bulb, he swears blind it is his.
Well, for your information beloved, I bought that garlic crusher at the American School Summer Fair in Vienna in 1996. So there! And if I have my way, the other one will get sold on Saturday. Humph!