His things, my things. So. Many. Spatulas. But, those are the unimportant bits.
Our things–these things that have built our history as individuals before we became an us, a we, a better together thing–now we merge them. And they fit together as well as we do. They blend into a whole that really ties the room together.
Anybody need a spatula? We have a few spares. Also, a toaster? (We figured one four-slice toaster was sufficient although, if we had room, we would have kept both because there's just something so fucking awesome about being able to simultaneously toast eight slices of bread when serving breakfast for seven people.) FYI, even Consumer Reports notes that a toaster oven is no way to toast a piece of bread. That's why we have both of those appliances in our kitchen. They serve wholly different purposes.
We might have a few more duplicates in the kitchen, the tool shed, and the bathroom/grooming departments, but mostly, we have twice the awesome up in here because it's just better when we're together–better for all of us.