Throw In The Sponge

As the child of Depression-Era parents, I was taught to use it up and wear it out.  Nothing got wasted, everything was saved.  Buttons were cut off clothing before being cut up for rags.  Rags were braided into rugs.  Bits of string were rolled into a ball.  Slivers of soap were dried and tucked into dresser drawers for their fragrance.  Habits of a lifetime are hard to break.  I seem to be incapable of throwing out plastic food containers from sour cream, yogurt, etc.  There are stacks and stacks tumbling out of any number of cupboards.  Empty boxes are piled in the spare room.  Who knows when I might need a box.  I have a supply of plastic grocery bags, more than any human could ever use.  They could come in handy one of these days.  All of these thoughts came to me yesterday when I threw out a kitchen sponge.  I use sponges with a scrubber side, and this one had no scrub left and the sponge was in shreds.  It was time to let go, but still I hesitated.  As I put the remains in the trash, I thought, "Deb would be so happy."  Some of my habits make my daughter nutso, and probably the worst are the sponges.  She's given up chastising me and just tosses the one in use and gets out a new one.  I felt guilty when I threw in the sponge, but Deb would be so proud.