(At Joe's request...)
Joe called me today to clarifiy that he actually had been cleaning up his house more than he had previously told me. He told me he had either made six trips or took six trash bags over to the dumpster. I forget now. Either way pretty impressive. And this weekend, I offered to cram some of the smaller large stuff into the back of my jeep and we could cart it over there.
Anyway he told me that he had got rid of all of the boxes of Jello and pudding that he had inherited from a grandmother (Charlotte perhaps?). My heart sank at this news.
Why?
Because every time I was over at his house poking around his cabinets for a secret stash of something or simply a drinking glass, I would come across these boxes of Jello. And there weren't just a couple, but lots. (Joe thinks around 40.) And they wern't instant either but that cook and serve stuff, at least pudding wise. And they wern't good flavors like cherry or wild berry (not that I eat Jello, it falls under ugly food) or pudding-wise, vanilla and chocolate but they were flavors like lime and tapioca or pistacio. You know, the types of flavors you either buy by mistake or old people like. Which would explain why he inherited them from his grandma. And these weren't new boxes. No internet address on them. These were save three UPCs and send in a dollar for a Jello mold and a recipe book of 341 uses for Jello old. I know all of them were older than Alex. If boxes of Jello could drive, all of them would be able too. And I'm pretty sure that they were all older than me. Maybe not as old as Joe, but probably pretty close.
I was crushed when he told me about throwing them away because in all of the time that we've be dating, I have savored the idea that I would get to eventually throw these boxes of Jello away. (Or at least be there when it happened.) I rubbed my hands together and drooled a little at the prospect while staring at them in the cabinet. Them staring smuggly back at me content to sit on their shelf. It was not meant to be though and I am crushed.
Joe tells me now after they are good and gone that I could of thrown them away at any time. He wouldn't of minded. BUT they were his AND inherited from a dead relative, how was I to know that they weren't some precious memory or heriloom to be cherished. But that they were instead some really old boxes of Jello and pudding mix.
The ultimate boyfriend thing to do, now knowing that I am so devistated by not having to been able to do the throwing away, would be to go back to the dumpster after work with a flashlight, fight off the three raccoons that have surely gathered and put the Jello boxes back on the shelf for me to throw away when I come up there tomorrow. HOWEVER, this is highly impractical and Joe, you don't have the rabies shot like I do so don't go fighting off raccoons for me. I'll get over it I am sure. Like I was until I had to write this blog for you.
While I am disappointed that I didn't get to throw away these boxes of Jello, I am sure that our relationship in the future will have more really old things to throw out. Chris Jericho, I'm looking at you now, bud.
[EDIT-Orginally published to Blogger on 7/30/11]
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