And You Wonder Why I’m a Pack Rat
Here I am at my mother’s house. I’m trying to find some scissors. I look in the kitchen junk drawer, and I can’t see anything because there are playing cards stuck in every possible place. They are well-worn cards, each with a picture of some scenic thing from Greece on them. One of the jokers has the J and the picture scribbled out with Sharpie and “QUEEN OF CLUBS” written in in child’s writing. I count the cards to see if the deck is full. The 8 of diamonds is missing.
ME: I’m going to throw these cards away. The 8 of diamonds is missing.
MOTH: Don’t do that!
ME: there’s a card missing. You can’t play cards with one card missing.
MOTH: (derisively) yes you can. There are PLENTY of games you can play…
ME: NO THERE AREN’T.
MOTH: we might find the other card… you never know when it will turn up.
ME: when was the last time you played cards?
MOTH: what was the name of that refrigerator I was looking at? Whirlpool?
ME: don’t change the subject. I’m throwing them out,
MOTH: (getting more frantic) But Angela brought those back to me from Greece… like 11 years ago.
–background info– Angela is my sister’s friend, whom she doesn’t really keep in touch with anymore.
ME: I’m throwing them out.
MOTH: –pointed silence– (she is never silent unless she’s making a passive aggressive point)
And so it goes. Moth invites me to clean out her kitchen drawers, so I do, but she freaks out when I attempt to throw away one of her business cards that has an out of date email address printed on it, and has a circle cut out of the middle. Then I am admonished to save a small piece of sandpaper which has been used so many times you could probably use it for regular stationery at this point.
See? I’m not a compulsive hoarder, at least by comparison!