I love my husband

Cleaning out the basement today was like being an archeologist. We peeled back layers of baby crap, bigger kid crap, and our own crap, and under it all were lingering remnants of my ex-husband, with whom I formerly lived in this house. When my current husband and I moved here four years ago, we had to rent a dumpster just to clean out my ex's crap - and I actually do mean crap, there was dog shit in the attic AND the basement, among other horrors of housekeeping that make me look very Martha Stewart in comparison. After I left him, he took in a series of seriously sketchy roommates/boarders, some of whom kept pit bulls. Mercifully, no one was ever grieviously injured, since I was still on the deed and mortgage.

Back to today - the last evidence of my ex's trashy friends' scary dogs was a giant rusted dog cage in the basement. We didn't dispose of it when we moved here because the dumpster was too full, so today seemed like a good time to get rid of it. I assumed we could just collapse it, but when I went to take a closer look, I discovered that the top was held to the body of the cage with no fewer than four locked padlocks. What kind of beast were they caging down there??? And what is the appeal of having man-eating pets anyway? And who keeps a pet in the basement? Oh, right, my ex.

Which reminds me. I really, really love my husband.