How I Created a Monster When We Moved In Together

The official move was on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. And since moving in together, I had to "trick" the boyfriend into tossing several of his possessions away. Before you crucify me, I will list a few items for your judging pleasure.

1. An old napkin from his 3rd job.

2. A shriveled up Magazine with Thalia on the cover.

3. A shirt that no longer fit him that also had 6 holes in it.

4. A package of oatmeal. Really?

5. A belt that never should have been designed. (I should've taken a twitpic of it)

But now, I come home to find more items being tossed out as he frantically goes about his new-found pass-time, "This has a spot on it" or "This towel no longer provides that fluffy comfortable feeling".

I also participated in the ritualistic "parting" of several items so it was all fair and dandy for this Mexican too. And while strolling to the train this morning--of all the garbage bags sitting in a heap on our corner--someone managed to rip open our stuff and spread it about like is was garage sale season in Oklahoma. I wasn't sure if I should have been flattered or horrified?

And all the while, as "the move" occurred, I couldn't help but wonder, "Does the concept of compromise increases when you take that leap and move in together or should it have been present--and in equal proportions--all along?"  

Did you have to throw anything out in the name of compromise? Leave a comment.