My Mom Has More Junk Than Your Mom

Goodness, mercy, sakes alive. This place is like a museum of family history, and not necessarily in a good way.

Scott and I are spending our weekend at the hold home front, packing what is left of my mom's stuff to take back to Satan's Armpit so she might feel more comfortable surrounded by her junk.

I called her three times before I learned my lesson: Yes, she does want that. Never mind that there is no room, no storage, no use for it in her new house. She wants it. Those pants that are three sizes too big? Yes, bring those. The six cans of "sample, not for resale" MEN'S shaving cream? Yes, she says, those are probably still good, bring those. And don't forget my Aunt Flora's china. And mine, too. And Mama Nash's. And those blue glasses that go with the grape plates, because someday you will want them. And yes, those cheap red plates! I use those for Christmas and Valentine's Day!

Oh, yes, Mother. God knows we're going to need place settings for 49 this Easter. I bought 17 plastic boxes at walmart today (and the whole walmart experience is a complete new blog entry in itself). All to pack her junk in.

But I digress. Family history. While digging through the junk, I found a $50 savings bond that matures next month; a list my father wrote shortly before he died, titled "Where the Money Is"; his discharge papers from the Army (yes, we might need those!); and some photos of my family I had never seen before. I found a special edition box set of Glenn Miller 45s that are probably 60 years old, and some 78s that are older. I found the dress my grandmother wore to my mother's wedding (gorgeous, perfect condition, and now vintage!). I found a box of unused valentines from the 1940s. I found a shoebox full of my father's prescription medications, including vicodin (if only it were not a decade old) and one I wish I hadn't seen. I found no fewer than 50 notebooks, legal pads, and looseleaf papers (Oh bring those! I need those!). And I found some of my grandmother's, ahem, unmentionables.

I immediately prayed that I would not follow my mother down this particularly dark road of hoarding. And for what is probably the umpteenth time in my life, I mentally derided my parents for having only one kid. Thanks, dad and mom. Just for that, I'm going to sell all your records to Half Price Books!

###

Location:Mom's old place