Leader of the Pack

All my life, I’ve been somewhat of a packrat. Not in the slobby, “can’t see the dust on top of the furniture” way. I just have the unfortunate tendency to attach far more sentimental value to “things” than they deserve. For that reason, I’ve moved boxes from house to house to storage locker to house without opening them. I just keep loading and re-stacking. Why do I do this, you may ask? Well because I NEED that stuff, of course. The fact that I don’t actually know what the stuff IS gets shoved aside… and probably resides somewhere under the stack of decorating magazines with all the great ideas I’m going to clip… umm… soon. Lately, my sister and I have been sorting, sharing, packing, donating, selling and even trashing, some 40 years’ worth of items from the house where we grew up. The house recently sold and we came face to face with the demon task of deciding what to do with everything. Each having a home of our own, it’s hard to accept that we simply don’t have enough space to keep everything we think we “should” keep. Why should we keep ornaments that we don’t need or even really want? Well, mainly because we grew up in a home where everything “might be worth something someday!” Honestly. The day that mass-produced trinkets suddenly turn to dust in every home across the world but ours, I guess we’ll be rich. In the meantime, reality has set in. We have to keep things that have meaning to us and let other items go to people who truly need them. It feels really good to be told that some of Mom’s belongings are making other people happy. She’d have wanted nothing less. Now, I’m faced with bringing more boxes and bins into my own house. Great. Where exactly will THOSE GO? Oh wait… I know… just stack them there alongside the craft supplies I might someday find time to use and the picnic dishes that – oh, forget it. I have no excuse for even OWNING those. All this movin’ and shakin’ has inspired me to take a good, long look at my own closets and basement and I’ve apparently become a hard-ass. No more keeping things for “someday.” If I haven’t even touched something in six months, out it goes. My husband stares at me, awestruck and probably more than a little worried, as I become a tossing tornado. “Chuck this, honey” “I can get more of these if I ever really need them” “Crap… I can buy this stuff at the dollar store these days!” “Hurry up, for crying out loud!! The trash guys will be coming by any minute!!” I knew I’d gone over the edge when I came upon two sonogram printouts of my younger daughter and stared at them, filled with memories and emotions. My husband said, “Well those you sure have to keep!” and I actually replied, “Oh… I can????” Whack me upside the head and jiggle my brain back into place. I’ve become the ANTI-rat! I’ve developed a severe allergy to cardboard! If it’s in a box, I don’t want it. If it’s wrapped in tissue paper, I don’t need it. I won’t be stopped until my house is CLEAN and CLUTTER-FREE!!! MWAHhahahahahaha!!! Sorry. Wow. Frightening. But it does explain why the kids disappear, shrieking “I REALLY DO NEED THIS!!!!!” whenever I walk into a room. My husband has also taken to strapping himself to the bed when he goes to sleep. I thought he had some exciting new game in mind. Imagine my disappointment when I realized he’s just worried that, one of these mornings, he’s going to wake up next to a Hefty bag – and it won’t be me!