Married to a Hoarder
My husband is a hoarder. Or actually, he's a sentimental stock-piler. I'll sometimes find myself searching for something in a cupboard in the garage and discover a pile of art projects Keaton made in Kindergarten. Don't get me wrong, I too, have an affinity for the hand crafted works of our children, but I DO something with them, like frame them or display them on our mantel. Kelly collects things and puts them in little hidden piles around the house, a mouse of memorabilia of sorts. I will add, that if Kelly holds tight to the seemingly meaningless, I have been known to discard with an abandon that sometimes leaves me regretting having tossed something important. I am the yin to his yang.
Since I became pregnant I have had the desire to purge and to clean and to nest like I've never experienced before. Yesterday I went on a rampage- our closet and the laundry room downstairs were my target. I was nearing the end of a three hour scavenge for items forgotten and discarded when I walked into Keaton's room. I noticed at the top of his armoire was something that resembled a balled up plastic bag. I stood on tip toes to reach the multi-colored garbage and pulled down a foot tall, cheaply made plastic Batman with a parachute attached to his back by kite string. We had bought the toy during our familymoon in Playa Del Carmen three and a half years ago and I hadn't seen Keaton play with it since the day on the beach it became ours. I crumpled up the parachute and stuffed the toy into the massive garbage bag I was hauling upstairs.
At the entry to our house I had piled up boxes and bags to go to Goodwill, along with a few large bags of trash. As I walked by the collection it occurred to me that I should take the trash to the can now, lest Kelly walk by and notice some "treasure" I was disposing of. But he was buried in his computer at the counter so I shrugged the fleeting thought off.
Awhile later I asked Kelly if he could help me load everything into the car. I was rooting around in the garage in search of castoff boxes of dishes and old books to add to our haul. I ran inside and up the stairs to our bedroom. As I ascended the stairs I noticed a figure out the window on our rooftop deck. What the hell? I thought to myself. There was my fifty-something year old husband leaning over the railings of our deck to launch Giant Batman into the air. The grin on his face was priceless as he yelled out, "Why are we getting rid of this?! This guy is awesome!"
Are you fucking kidding me?
"Babe no one has even touched that thing in three years! It's cheap and shitty and pointless to hold on to! And why are you going through the trash?!" I exclaimed through the open window.
He descended the stairs from the deck, grabbed Batman and muttered to himself, "You're not going anywhere. Keaton is going to love to play with you again."
I would be outraged but I couldn't stop the laughter from spilling out of me. Some days marriage is about finding the sweet in your partner's eccentricities.
Since I became pregnant I have had the desire to purge and to clean and to nest like I've never experienced before. Yesterday I went on a rampage- our closet and the laundry room downstairs were my target. I was nearing the end of a three hour scavenge for items forgotten and discarded when I walked into Keaton's room. I noticed at the top of his armoire was something that resembled a balled up plastic bag. I stood on tip toes to reach the multi-colored garbage and pulled down a foot tall, cheaply made plastic Batman with a parachute attached to his back by kite string. We had bought the toy during our familymoon in Playa Del Carmen three and a half years ago and I hadn't seen Keaton play with it since the day on the beach it became ours. I crumpled up the parachute and stuffed the toy into the massive garbage bag I was hauling upstairs.
At the entry to our house I had piled up boxes and bags to go to Goodwill, along with a few large bags of trash. As I walked by the collection it occurred to me that I should take the trash to the can now, lest Kelly walk by and notice some "treasure" I was disposing of. But he was buried in his computer at the counter so I shrugged the fleeting thought off.
Awhile later I asked Kelly if he could help me load everything into the car. I was rooting around in the garage in search of castoff boxes of dishes and old books to add to our haul. I ran inside and up the stairs to our bedroom. As I ascended the stairs I noticed a figure out the window on our rooftop deck. What the hell? I thought to myself. There was my fifty-something year old husband leaning over the railings of our deck to launch Giant Batman into the air. The grin on his face was priceless as he yelled out, "Why are we getting rid of this?! This guy is awesome!"
Are you fucking kidding me?
"Babe no one has even touched that thing in three years! It's cheap and shitty and pointless to hold on to! And why are you going through the trash?!" I exclaimed through the open window.
He descended the stairs from the deck, grabbed Batman and muttered to himself, "You're not going anywhere. Keaton is going to love to play with you again."
I would be outraged but I couldn't stop the laughter from spilling out of me. Some days marriage is about finding the sweet in your partner's eccentricities.
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