Mom is living in a real episode of “Hoarders: Buried Alive”

I love my kids. I hate their hoarding tendencies.

My oldest has pretty much outgrown the desire to keep every little piece of paper.

One down, two to go.

I will never understand the strong attraction to a single piece of paper with single hole-punch punched out. I will never understand the need to keep torn Pokémon cards. I will never understand coveting half-used, half-broken crayons nestled in the bottom of supply boxes.

I don’t get it.

I just threw away three WallyWorld sized bags full of shit that I – and I am not joking – found under the twins bunk beds. I stupidly told them to clean their room yesterday or they were not allowed to have a snack or watch TV before bed. Well, they fooled me!

But, like the good sleuth I am, I found everything this morning – in uncategorized piles under the bed. I pitched it all. I was almost as fast as a shop-vac with the speed at which I grabbed paper, lost-and-forgotten Lego pieces and mini farm animals (sorry Mr. Pig and Mr. Horse – your new house will be the landfill!).

As I sit here writing this, I propped open a paper bag (the kind I ask for at the local supermarket and get the evil stare since I am asking for … gasp … PAPER) for which I had intended to drag around the house with me, tossing any piece of crap that doesn’t belong here. My daughter grabbed it first (only because I decided to blog instead of purge) and is now putting her doll clothes inside of it.

Lucky for me, I have plenty of paper bags to gather trash. Why PAPER you asked? BECAUSE THEY CANNOT SEE THROUGH IT! IF I USE PLASTIC BAGS, I WILL LOSE THIS PURGE BATTLE AND THEY WILL SCREAM, YELL AND GO INTO A FULL BLOWN TANTRUM!

I will not give up this fight against in-home littering.

I will prevail.

I will win.

Because I refuse to live in an episode of “Hoarders:  Buried Alive” any longer.

 

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