With Tracey at work I was cleaning rooms and sorting clothes when I had a sort of epiphany – my wife is a hoarder.
If we happen to catch The Hoarders on telly my wife with often snigger uncharitably at the predicaments these unfortunate people find themselves in but the fact is, given enough rope, my wife would inevitably end up starring in an episode of her own.
This revelation occurred to me when I stared into my young daughters’ wardrobe, and a series of colourful, sand filled jars stared back at me with their googly eyes. These ‘delightful’ pieces were made by our children when we holidayed on the Gold Coast a couple of years ago. Essentially they helped fill in fifteen minutes of the kids’ time and gave them something fun to do on an otherwise un-fun evening for them of walking through the markets while their parents looked at craftwork and artwork and bits of stuff for big people.
And now, despite bits falling off them and the sand getting mixed up and the holiday ending, it seems I’m stuck with them. Miss7 did do me the service of dropping and smashing one a few months ago but even at that rate it will take me over a decade to be rid of them.
And it’s not only bottles we’re collecting. We also have boxes of drawings and paintings the kids have done over the years. When I dare to ask why, I’m shot down with a (now standard) reply of, “the kids will want them when they grow up.” Only I saw Master19’s face when she handed him a couple of boxes of crappy art and he wasn’t exactly bursting with enthusiasm.
Now no doubt on the accusation of hoarding my wife will strike back with revelations of her own regarding the furnishings with which I’d decorated this house prior to her moving in. Furnishings she systematically donated to Lifeline, Red Cross and the tip during her first year living here, which we sentimentally look back on as The Blitz. I would counter argue I could not see the point in throwing something away, even something ugly, until we had the means to replace it – an argument borne out by the fact we still don’t have a coffee table.
So going forward I’ve decided prior to letting my kids engage in crafty activities I have to ask myself, “is this something you will want to find around the house?”
And if Tracey should get upset with me I’ll just have to explain it’s for her own good and I’m simply trying to keep her off prime time and hope I don’t end up on Unsolved Mysteries.