Some people enjoy exploring antiquated shops, while others stumble upon hidden treasures in their basements. However, they share a common experience—they encounter peculiar items and initially struggle to discern their purpose. Fortunately, the internet abounds with experts ready and willing to assist in unraveling these enigmas.
1. “Found in a kitchen drawer. Stiff, but still bends a little.”
Answer: “It goes through a hole at the end of measuring spoon sets to keep them together.”
2. “Received a random Amazon parcel addressed to me that I didn’t order, what is this thing?”
Answer: “It looks like a gripper to hold fish by the mouth without harming them.”
3. “Found in my dad’s room.”
Answer: “It goes over shoes to give a grip on ice.”
4. “What is this stabby thing on wheels that arrived in the mail by mistake from Jamaica, NY?”
Answer: “It’s for weeding cracks and crevices.”
5. “A co-worker collects mystery objects and can’t identify this.”
Answer: “It’s a spark tester for a small engine.”
6. “Found this rubber thing on my stoop.”
Answer: “Water bottle holder.”
7. “Dinner table conversation… What do you think it is?”
Answer: “Lemon juicer.”
8. “Why is this toilet bowl shaped this way?”
Answer: “To hold a bedpan to collect specimens.”
9. “Colorful, plastic objects found at a thrift store. What is it?”
Answer: “Possibly pieces to a children’s play set of some sort.”
10. “What is this? A small bakelite toilet container with a spoon.”
Answer: “Could be a little salt well or ‘salt cellar’ or ‘salt pig’. They have spoons about this size and the bowl of this is pretty small.”
11. “Got this for free as a giveaway at a convention… I have no idea what it could be.”
Answer: “It’s a portable trash bag/dog poo bag holder.”
12. “Kids got these for Halloween. They are thin plastic, and say OM 5/22 made in China on the back.”
Answer: “They are stencils, popular in the 90s.”
13. “Golden-coloured opaque glass object about 25cm tall. Weights about 40g.”
Answer: “It’s a decor item.”
14. “Found this at a garage sale…”
Answer: “For opening a soft-boiled egg.”
15. “Metallic rocket-shaped object. Has three fins, & the end of a screw is sticking out of the base.”
Answer: “Salt and pepper shakers.”
Do you have an appreciation for the unconventional? Take a look at these items that may appear peculiar at first glance but, in reality, serve entirely distinctive purposes.
My Rich Husband Forbade Me from Entering One Room in Our House – I Could Not Stop Crying When I Saw What He Was Hiding
When Alexis’ parents forced her to marry Robert, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Later, Alexis broke the one rule her husband gave her and entered the room he warned her about, unleashing secrets she wasn’t prepared for.
I couldn’t understand why my parents wanted me to get married before I found someone myself.
“Alexis,” my mother said, “Robert is a catch. He’s a wealthy man who will take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work.”
I couldn’t refuse. My father had made it clear.
“You marry Robert, Alexis,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Or you can figure out your own living arrangements.”
In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu.
“We will continue to bake what we know,” my father insisted.
Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert’s demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don’t know how my father arranged our connection.
Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert’s affluence, nothing short of extravagant. Robert’s wedding planner had thought of everything.
My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke.
“I’m looking forward to being married,” he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding.
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he added.
That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in.
Two days after our wedding, I moved into our new home.
“Come, I’ll show you around,” Robert said.
He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I’d never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call.
“It’s beautiful,” I said when we got to the kitchen. “Everything is beautiful.”
“Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too,” he declared with a hint of pride.
I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage.
“But one thing, Alexis,” he said. “There’s one rule. The attic. Never go in there.”
I nodded at Robert. I couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn’t know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey.
A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home.
Driven by curiosity stronger than any warning, I found myself ascending the stairs to the attic. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time.
A quick in and out, I thought to myself.
Pushing the door open, I was met with a sight that sent me to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying. I didn’t know why I felt confusion and relief at the same time.
The attic, dimly lit, seemed to be a vault of my husband’s hidden memories. Childhood toys lay scattered, each carrying untold stories. Old postcards and photographs of Robert’s life before me. Among the relics were letters from a young boy to his father, a soldier away at war.
“How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?”
Robert’s face turned red with rage.
“I just want to understand,” I stammered. “I just want to know you, Robert.”
Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be.
“Alexis,” he said, “Come, let’s sit.”
Robert led me to the living room.
“My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved,” he confessed.
My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke.
What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father’s approval, unfolded in our home.
In those vulnerable moments, I didn’t see the distant, cold man I had married but a boy who had never stopped seeking love and acceptance. He just didn’t know how to go about it.
In those few hours, things changed. Robert started letting me in. And now, years later, our home is filled with the cries and laughter of our daughter, April.
Through our daughter, Robert healed. He healed for himself, and for our daughter.
We’ve packed away everything from the attic, so it is no longer a shrine to Robert’s past but is now my little reading nook.
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