This was almost as good as finding his old love letters to an ex

I've talked before about how Dave's mom's saved everything from Dave's first dental X-rays to a sheet of wallet photos from his junior prom, but the bin of treasures she dug out of their basement went so far above that expectation that I couldn't do anything but shake my head.

I'm not sure why anyone would keep items they weren't sure what they were or where they came from. Posters. Cereal boxes. School notebooks. Avon cologne bottles.

And now's not the time to talk about "Antiques Roadshow." I'm not talking about "AR"-type finds.

Over the last few years, though, from our moving to Dave's having to carry items from the top floor to the basement, I've convinced Dave that a good rule of thumb is, if you forgot you had it, you probably don't need it. I've trained him, my words like a shot of water in a squirt bottle, poised for him to say "Should I keep this?" ZAP, ZAP, "NO -- ROOOOOAAARRR" ZAP, ZAP. He's drenched on the floor, one hand extended to the garbage can by the time I'm done shooting him my looks.

But standing in his mom's living room, it was different. He hovered over the black garbage bag, pitching 75 percent of the treasures his mom had lovingly saved as she and I watched from our seats near the fireplace. Yet in came his dad, reaching for an Avon cologne bottle amid the garbage. "Hheeeyyyy, what's this?" he asked, holding it up.

"Erin's not letting me keep it."

"Why not? This is probably worth something." And that's how the Avon bottle ended up on top of their fridge. And how my life was rid of it.

Now, watch. It'll be the ONE bottle that's worth something, and when his brother or sister realize it's on top of the fridge, there will be an all-out war over who gets to show PBS the coveted item.

Say what you will, but people don't realize that gobs of wallet-sized, one-pose-only, professional prom pictures of Dave and a girl named Jamie lead to happiness that can't be measured in money alone.