Yesterday afternoon, I went looking for our anniversary card.

Not just any anniversary card. The perfect anniversary card. I had found it months ago. I saw it in the store, read it, and immediately knew it was the one. So, naturally, I bought it and put it someplace safe.

Very safe.

Too safe.

I hid it so well in one of my dresser drawers that even I couldn’t find it.

Tomorrow is our anniversary.

So, there I was, opening drawers, moving things around, and asking myself the obvious question:

“Why did I put it someplace where even I can’t find it?”

The only solution was to clean out my dresser.

This is something my wife and children have been telling me to do for approximately 10 years. According to them, my dresser is so full that there isn’t even room for my wife to put the clean laundry she has been washing for me.

I thought they were exaggerating.

They weren’t.

The first thing I discovered was approximately 20 T-shirts with slogans, pictures, etc. on them.  THEY ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE.  

Twenty!

I really don't need 20 T-shirts. Especially since I apparently spend most of my time wearing the same three or four. But there they were.  I pick out the one I’m in the mood to wear. Tomorrow, I might select the COORS shirt with the Three Stooges on it.  I love the Three Stooges, and that T-shirt is a classic.  The rest are T-shirts with  pockets.  Hey, pockets,  They stay as well.

I also found enough bathing suits to outfit a small Olympic swimming team. I rarely go swimming anymore, but I keep them just in case.

Just in case of what?

A sudden invitation to compete in the Olympics?

Still, they’re perfectly good bathing suits. And if I do decide to go swimming next year, I’ll have a choice.

Blue? Red? Stripes?

Decisions are important.

Then came the socks.

At least fifty pairs of sweat socks.

Some of them may have been there for 30 years.

But can you blame me?

Every summer, Walmart has a sale on sweat socks. And I think, “I can always use sweat socks.”

So I buy more.

The logical thing would be to throw away the old socks when I buy new ones.

But some of the old ones are still perfectly good.

Why throw out something that still works?

That's not hoarding.

That's conservation.

Then I reached the underwear.

I am now prepared to make a confession.

I have accumulated more underwear than anyone in my neighborhood.

Every summer, Walmart has a sale, and I think, “You can always use underwear.”

So I buy more.

Unfortunately, my wife has finally convinced me that there is a limit.

I will get rid of some.

Some.

The undershirts are staying, of course.

The underpants are another matter.

I suggested keeping some to use as rags.

My wife said, “You can't use underwear as rags.”

I said, “Why not?”

My car doesn't know whether the rag I'm using to wash it was once an undershirt or underpants.

A rag is a rag!

I may hide the old underwear in the shed.

My wife hasn't gone into that shed in 30 years.

It's basically a secure storage facility.

I also found shorts.

Lots of shorts.

Unfortunately, I've changed sizes about three times since we moved into this house. So, I have shorts that are too big, shorts that almost fit, and shorts that actually fit.

The ones that are too big could probably be used as rags, too.

I'm certainly not going to pay a tailor today to alter a pair of 20-year-old shorts.

At this point, I think I'm going to wind up with one enormous garbage bag filled with the things that have finally been declared “unnecessary.”

I don't really want to throw any of it away.

But I have to admit, sometimes you look at something and say:

“You know what? They're right. This has to go.”

It's a compromise.

A lot gets thrown out.

A lot stays.

And I'm still looking for that anniversary card.

If I ever find it, I may frame it.

After all, it has survived months in my dresser.

And when that big bag of discarded clothes finally goes to the dump, I think I'll hold a little memorial service.

I'll stand there quietly and say:

“You were good shirts. You were good socks. You were good underwear. You served me well.”

I’m on my way to Walmart to get another anniversary card, and if I see a sale, there’s now room in the dresser.