One of the newer things I've learned about C since moving in together is that he is a closet dumpster diver. I was actually quite surprised by it, because he's so neat and orderly (read: anal) about most things in his life that I have a really hard time imagining him being able to pick something up off the street. But yet practically every night during our travaux, he'd come home with something new.

August really is THE moving month in Paris, and our new neighborhood was no different. All month long we saw various moving trucks come and go, and without a doubt right after, there would be furniture, decorations, etc on the street. Some of the things he's picked up have been great - like an old bookshelf he was able to turn into a custom-made shoe rack for our bedroom. Or the multitude of moving boxes he found, saving us a small fortune by not having to by any. Other things though have gotten a big fat No Thanks from me, and have ended up right back where he found them.

But then there's today, where I come home to this:
Any guesses as to what my manly man is planning on doing with a mini hot pink guitar?? Cuz I sure have no clue...