
As much as I love Jared, he is a tried and true pack-rat. He is the quintessential Boy Scout. Being prepared means having at least three of everything. It can drive me absolutely insane. I do have to admit, however, that there have been times when his ultra-preparedness has come in handy. Like the time I was pregnant with John and totally nauseated. We were on a drive somewhere beyond civilization and he pulled over, opened the trunk and got out an Army MRE (meal ready to eat) for me to snack on. It really helped the nausea.
He always has things tucked away just in case you might need them. Like dry socks under the seat in the truck. Crazy, or smart? His pockets are always filled to the brim with "supplies". He brags about the time the power went out at the hospital and he was the envy of everyone with his head lamp. If you need Chapstick, Tylenol, baby wipes, change for the payphone, a pocket knife, a flashlight (or three), candy, a magazine (or eight) to read, a magazine (or eight) to shoot, tape, or an I.V. just check his bag that he carts back and forth to work. I swear it weighs at least 20 lbs.
Did you catch my ammunition reference? Don't get me started. When the world comes to an end you will find my family holed up in our little house with ammo caches in every window sill. Ammunition, he says, is our food storage. Don't be too quick to judge-- he grew up in L.A., served a year in Iraq, and therefore, likes his guns. And who knows, maybe they will come in handy when we have to eat a raccoon at the end of the world.
I love Jared. It is his idiosyncrasies that make me smile and appreciate him. When he was in Iraq I missed them. I would have gladly sorted his right and left socks just to have him home again.