For the Love of Baskets

I admit it. I have a fetish. Or maybe it's an addiction. I should attend BCA. That is Basket Collectors Anonymous.

I love baskets. Any shape, size or color will do. When I stand in the middle of my living room floor, I can spot 6 baskets within plain sight. And that does not count walking into bedrooms or closets. Although I will not bore you by naming each basket's specific use, I could. No basket goes unused around here.

So, if each basket has a specific use, is it really an addiction? Or could it simply be a fetish when I walked through Garden Ridge today and I spotted another 6 baskets that I would really like to have? And truly, hubby, I can think of a use for each one! And they were all on SALE! Gasp! But I did not buy any. I repeat, I did not buy one. Because I did not think that I could face my husband tonight and tell him that I bought just one more basket.

But I cannot get my mind off of them. They are calling my name. What if I can't sleep tonight?! Okay, if I lose sleep over them, then I'll know it's an addiction, and I truly do need to find my local chapter of BCA. Anyone care to join me?

3 comments:

Trixie Twatwaffle said...

Already there. I have a bunch-o-baskets - everywhere. Most of mine don't hold a thing. But they look great. Boyfriend and I are building a house and am already planning on what baskets will go on top of the kitchen cabinets. He thinks I am insane. Glad to know someone else suffers from OCBD (Obsdessive Compulsive Basket Disorder!) :)

Anonymous said...

I have the same obsession. We recently moved and my hubby discovered just how many baskets I own. I am forbidden from bringing any more home. : (

Anonymous said...

My dear OCDB wife, all you have to do is ask to get another basket. Please, don't lose any sleep over that.