my brother the label maker

so my friend quirky and i have a super old inside joke about one of our former co-workers.  i don't remember exactly how it goes, but quirky was doing some organizing at the office and needed to borrow the label machine.  ditzy was the office secretary at the time and said machine was in her jurisdiction, so quirky called her to get access to it.

i don't remember if ditzy just couldn't hear or really didn't understand what was being asked of her, but the punchline to this whole thing ended up being "what?  your brother's a label maker??" in kind of a high-pitched, shrieky voice.

okay, maybe it's not all that funny for o'yous who weren't there.  but it still makes me giggle when i think about it.  and my telling this story is actually pretty redundant to begin with, considering the label machine i just bought isn't even a brother.  oh, well.

so anyone who knows us very well knows that i am a complete slob, and the hub is my polar opposite.  my slovenly ways are the bane of his existence, and i try, but we all know how lazy i am.  anyway, he'd recently opened the door to my baking cupboard and lost his shit.  i had all of my baking paraphernalia and various ingredients and boxes and ziploc bags and little containers of sprinkles and things shoved every which way in there.  and while i knew exactly what's in there and where it all is, it looked pretty bad.

and so i decided to fix it.  i got a wild hair up my ass one morning, made a list of stuff to buy at target, bought it all after work, and dug in after picking up the teen from school.  the bean was napping, and it was the perfect time to squeeze the task in.  i actually had fun going through it all and making it look nice and neat, and so i present to you the before:

yeah, i know, pretty ugly.  but check out the after!

and now i want to label everything in the house.  we may have created a monster.