Packing…oh boy. We’re packing up our house after six enjoyable years on the Florida coast. We anticipate our move occurring little by little over the next few months, with a final, big move in the early spring.

Anyone who has packed up a “lived-in” house is familiar with the concept of sunk costs. Sunk costs* are expenses that have already been incurred and cannot be recovered in any manner that makes it worthwhile. A gadget here, a doodad there, a thingamajig everywhere. What use is it now? But it’s painful to throw it away “because I spent good money on that thing!” The important thing to discern is how much use is it to me now?

Back before I had a half dozen children misplaced my brain, I was very organized. My closet was color-coded, and my CD’s were alphabetized. Now, I’m just glad that the door shuts. Since we all marry our opposite, though, I was doomed to marry a packrat. (There is a better term for that, I’m sure, but my thesaurus isn’t working well.) But he got me good last night. Actually, it happens quite often whenever I pitch something that hasn’t been used in seven years (even though the official rule is one year).

Magically, the very next day he finds a project where he can say, “Yep. I wouldn’t have to run to Home Depot and spend money if you hadn’t pitched [insert said piece of junk].” He’ll then emphasize the phrase “spend money” with flair, because he knows that’s my weak point.

But back to last night. He uncrumpled a print I bought years ago, which I’ve intended all these years to get matted and framed. It got lost in the depths of our pantry–somewhere behind the doggy biscuits and econo-size jar of pickles. He shook it out, but the dust and creases hung a little too tightly.

“I guess I can pitch this, right?” he began.

“But I LOVE that picture. It’s so pretty. It reminds me of the simplicity and order and beauty that I can’t seem to hear because of the Honey-Nut Cheerios crunching under my toes! If I can’t have that life, can’t I at least LOOK at it?! Besides (ahem), even though it was on sale, it still wasn’t cheap.”

“And?”

“We can’t just throw it away! I LOVE that picture. Do you hear me?!”

And so he tossed it amid my protesting and wailing.

Yes, I find it very easy to toss all the junk around the house (very late at night under secret disguise). But when it’s my junk? That’s another story entirely.

Bye-bye, my lovely quilt and wagon print. You’ll be missed.

*From Wikipedia: Economics proposes that a rational actor does not let sunk costs influence one’s decisions, because doing so would not be assessing a decision exclusively on its own merits. For example, when one pre-orders a non-refundable movie ticket, the price of the ticket becomes a sunk cost. Even if the ticket-buyer decides that he would rather not go to the movie, there is no way to get back the money he originally paid.