Dearest Rachel –

So I came home early today from the ‘office’ (actually, I wasn’t at the office all that long today, since I was meeting Pastor Scott for lunch. It still takes some getting used to meeting him as a peer and friend, rather than in a pastor-to-congregant basis), because Jan warned me she would be here at 2 o’clock, and I figured I’d need to be here early… because she tends to be.

In any event, I decided to clear off one of the boxes in the bedroom, just to kill time and make space on my own terms rather than hers. I should mention that we’ve found plenty of candy over the past couple months as we have made our way through each room – and you’d be dismayed to know that most of it has been bagged up and thrown out, because it was all long past its expiration date. It’s true that expired candy isn’t nearly as awful (or as hazardous to your health) as, say, expired milk, but it does turn over time, just like anything else. It doesn’t matter how many preservatives are in a thing: time does its work eventually.

But I have to tell you, honey, this one has to win some kind of prize.

That’s right, you had a tin of Altoid-style mints that made light of the fact that you didn’t get around to things. And just to put a capper on it, take a good look at the corner of the tin:

Note the shrink wrap: you never even got around to opening this.

So, it pokes fun at the fact that you don’t get around to things, and you don’t get around to opening it up. You can’t get much more meta than that. Wally would be so proud of you, sweetheart.

For what it’s worth…

…they’re not bad. They aren’t the genuine article, but again, that may be the effects of time. I couldn’t tell you.

Anyway, I’ve got to stop postponing enjoying these sorts of things. I think we always used to worry that we’d never be able to enjoy them again if we consumed them. And there are a few things that we’ll never see again on the store shelves, like Hershey’s chocolate spread (I agree with you, sweetheart – Nutella just isn’t the same). But just hanging onto these things only means that we pay for something to rot in our pantry or fridge. We just have to enjoy what we have while we have it – maybe document how good it is, or was – and make note of where we might be able to locate it henceforth, just in case.

All I can say for now, though, is ‘thanks’ for the mints.

Oh, and everything else.

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I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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