Periodically the Husband likes to accuse me of hoarding. I think he does this to spice things up in our marriage because he knows one sure way to get me all fiery is to identify something about me that is mostly undesirable and ninety to ninety-five percent FALSE, ever so slightly true but not true enough for me to spend time fretting over.
His accusation is of course always met with shocked gasps from me and a healthy dose of turning the mirror back on him. That is what one does when having a disagreement right? Well who has boxes of books from college, engineering books, most of which weigh more than their beloved spouse, and of which will never have their spines cracked open again (the books, not the spouse), but are kept around just in case of the what ifs (again the books, not the spouse)? Who would commit such an act of hoardism? Well, I think it can be assumed that I do not own books I cannot lift with my own strength.
Anyway, he then points out the coupons I save but never use. Empty boxes I save because we’ll move again someday (but really, boxes are a prized commodity amongst movers!). Trinkets and souvenirs I save because JUST BECAUSE.
Then I point out his obsession with receipts. And what of that one time he brought home an electric typewriter in the year 2010 (?!) and a second-hand lawnmower that didn’t WORK. Oh the back and forth just goes on and on my friends. Yes I do need those dried roses! Those are the roses you gave me when you proposed! And you probably don’t even know that dried flowers are so passé so what’s your argument against them?
And the verdict is we’re both a little bit hoardish. But I’m an organized hoarder who hates clutter. Is that an oxymoron? I keep my things nice and tidy in pretty storage boxes, or I make them useful, by USING the stuff. This basically sounds like a normal person to me though, a.k.a: not a hoarder. He’s a pile hoarder. Little piles here and there. Then he occasionally attacks those piles and purges himself of everything whether useful or not. Were it not for the tri-annual purges, he would be a classic hoarder. Or just a classic male.
Obviously I prefer my method and he prefers his. But currently there are eight piles around the house courtesy of him, and there are a few closets and cabinets neatly packed full of things courtesy of moi, which makes me nervous because isn’t that how it always starts and before you know it your walking through a maze of crap with that guy from Oprah. The Peter Walsh.
So here is me, trying to improve that miniscule five percent. I’m getting rid of some things that I’ve kept around for years, either because I couldn’t stand the thought of so much waste or because I was thinking just in case. Don’t we all have our own just in cases?
It’s nesting week around here, without the fetus, but still including the crazed hormonal lady! Fun, fun, fun.
Join me tomorrow when I clear out my first box of stuff.* And if you like it all that much it’s yours, given you pay no attention to expiration dates and such.
* ‘Clear out’ is a subjective term. This may mean get rid of everything. It may also mean keep some or all of it.