DG went through the two HUGE moving boxes that he's stacked by the door to our bedroom for the last two years at last.
He found the grenade again. Go figure.
Oh, right, sorry, DG. A cluster bomb. My bad. At least it didn't roll out of a jacket pocket onto my foot in the closet like it did last time.
And your average issue chemical agent testing kit.
And about 3000 yards of sticky tape.
And a full set of restraints, including leg irons .... I'm considering offering them on EBay if Sorcha doesn't threaten me with death for getting rid of them.
Semi-full surgical tool/dissection kit, including the massive swab hemostats and scapels, and I'm sure there's suture kits around somewhere.
Ammo box or two. MREs that are God-only knows how old. Super Boy Scout Compass thing.
Things that I don't even want to try to identify.
"Honey, do we need .... "
"Honey, can you think of any reason to keep ....."
"Do we have any room for ...."
Dude. Packrat's Anonymous. Try it. Really.
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