Housewife's Plastic Grocery Bag Stash Represents Borderline Manic Behavior

A housewife added yet another plastic grocery bag to the compartment under the kitchen sink today, bringing the under-the-sink plastic grocery bag count to a total of 344 (or thereabouts) safeguarded sacks.

The sacks are useful for just about nothing, admits the young housewife, but she simply can't bring herself to throw them out. "You never know when you might unexpectedly dip into the secreted sack cache," quips the spritely homemaker, "You can replace the lavatory rubbish bin liner in a snap, or grab a more-than-adequate tote for returning borrowed tupperware."

The grocery bags have been misused on a few occasions that the housewife would like to quietly forget; once when her eldest son used a Goodwill bag as impromptu "wrapping paper" to gift a set of plastic kazoos at a snobbish neighbor boy's ritzy birthday celebration and pool party, and a handful of infuriating instances when an undiscovered lackadaisical family member has nonchalantly substituted the proper kitchen waste basket liners for the sub-capacity grocery bags; creating the illusion of correct functionality by stretching the mouth of the bag over the circumference of the can's opening. The impostor bag of course sinks directly to the bottom of the voluminous kitchen waste bin when the first good hunk of trash is thrown in; consequently making the emptying process much more difficult (and probably requiring a waste-basket cleansing afterwards).

The housewife readily attributes the borderline manic behavior to her mother's own grocery bag saving habits, proudly stating that the assiduous sack saving has "probably been going on for generations, or at least since sacks were invented!"