My Drawer

At home, my personal effects are required to be neatly stowed in an assigned location. The space I’ve been allotted for these things is my drawer… one drawer… in the whole house.

This is because my wife (like most women) doesn’t want a bunch of “man-stuff” cluttering up the Martha Stewart Living mirage she’s painstakingly manufactured to fool our friends into thinking we have good taste.

My wife will tell you that she has good taste, but she makes it clear from the tone of her voice and the arch in her brow that I’m a handicap in her quest for perfection. As far as she’s concerned, my only domestic responsibility is to leave no clue that I’ve been living in my home, should I actually attempt to do so.

Her interior design efforts are focused (as nearly as I’m able to understand) on the marriage of natural and artificial lighting, coordination of tertiary colors, consultation of the latest Feng-shui charts, and ensuring that my existence doesn’t disrupt the harmony that she has fought so hard to achieve.

It’s been this way for years… my one drawer. Recently, I’ve found that I’m running out of space in my drawer. I sometimes have to jiggle the drawer to get everything to settle so I can open it. Occasionally, I’ll slip a ruler or (don’t tell her) a butter knife through the cracked opening, to move things around so I can get it opened.

I inquired about the possibility of annexing the drawer next to mine, in order that I might redistribute some of my wealth and gain more ready access. This, however, is out of the question due to the pressing need for the knick-knacks, bric-a-brac and scented paraphernalia that are in the adjacent drawer, and must remain close at hand in case of a design-emergency.

So I decided I would clean my drawer. One thing that I found, in tackling this chore, is that I really don’t need everything in my drawer.

I didn’t free-up much space when I threw out the three school-photos of children I don’t recognize. Likewise, removing the half-package of petrified Twizzlers did little to satisfy my warehousing crunch—but little by little, I was able to gain space.

What’s this? It looks like a tool (or medical device) - don’t know. Out!

Annoying cat toy - I remember hiding this! Out!

A seed catalog from 1991. Out!

Wow! Two brand new anniversary cards still in the cellophane packaging. This may explain the one-drawer system… I’d better hang onto these.

I slipped one shoestring and a broken television remote in with some of her things. This is bound to be found out, sooner of later, and will bring a lecture regarding my “knuckle-dragging-man-habits”.

Anyway, I’ve got some room in my drawer now. I’m thinking about leasing the extra space to one of my teenage sons. He’s in a pinch for space too, and refuses to clean his drawer – or anything else for that matter.