I have spent the better part of the day cleaning closets. How in the hell did we accumulate so much clutter? It started yesterday as I was delivering laundry to my oldest son's room. I made the mistake of going inside, and what I saw made me flinch in mortal agony. We have always teasingly called his room the "fungus cave", but this atrocious garbage was too much. I grabbed a trash bag and began cleaning house.
Oldest son's room is the only room I have gated the baby from, and thank goodness for that! I tore his closet apart and pulled out shit I haven't seen in ten years--like his crutches from a million years ago when he tore a ligament in that car accident. There were boxes--and I am talking big plastic storage BOXES large enough for me to climb into if they were empty--of toys and books. JUNK! I dragged them into the center of the room, they were almost too heavy to move, and when he got home I had him cart them out into the dining room to be sorted. From there I threw out just about all of it--mismatched Legos, broken Power Rangers and Ninja Turtles... good grief. What does he need that mess for? I tucked the box of books into the closet in my and hubby's room. The books are for middle readers, and one day Miniboy will likely want them. Hand-me-downs from his bubba. Anyway, once I finished that, I had to go and rearrange the closet in the master bedroom to accomodate the new box of books in there.
I ended up throwing away racks of clothes. I'm talking stuff from the grunge era. Everything from my old Wolverine T-shirts that are so thin you can see through them, to old Mojo Wear shirts and dusty combat boots. I'm surprised moths didn't come fluttering out of there. My closet is a vintage crypt for bad fashion. Why was I keeping this stuff? You know what's even worse? Now that I've tossed that junk away, I will start to miss it. Give me a month to forget, then suddenly I'll want to wear a shirt I haven't seen in 8 years. I'll go to fish it out and think suddenly: Damn, why did I get rid of that?