I tend to use the word “collect” a bit too loosely around my home.
For example,
the hubby and I are cleaning out the garage.
He turns to me with a box full of movie ticket stubs from every movie I have ever seen since my teenage years.
HUBBY: Can I toss this?
ME: Oh, no you can’t. I collect those…
He shrugs {knowing better than to ask questions} and we continue to clean.
A few moments later, he stumbles upon my drawer full of nothing but buttons, and he turns to me with the same expression on his face.
ME: Nope, not those either. I collect those too…
Then its the box of brochures from every vacation we have ever gone on and all the nice restaurants we’ve eaten at together {because one day I will scrap book them, right?}.
ME: Collect–those are sentimental {an excuse I know he won’t bother arguing with me about}.
Then it’s onto the fabric scrap pile {of which most pieces could be rendered useless, but I can’t bear the thought of throwing them away, “just in case I need them one day for some project”.
HUBBY: Are you sure honey? We could probably get rid of some of these scraps.
ME: No way–because with my luck I’ll come up with an idea for some grand project and I will need the very scraps that I threw out the day before.
And as we continued to organize the garage, my mind began to wander as I took a mental inventory of all of my “collections”.
Sure some of my collections are pretty legit.
Like my knob collection,
my magnet collection,
my heart shaped rocks collection,
my sea shell collection,
my book collection,
and my baseball card collection {yes, I have a baseball card collection}…
Even if my list of legit “collections” is a bit extensive.
But what’s my excuse for the drawer filled to the brim with highlighter pens?
The cupboards over flowing with empty baby food jars…
The bins filled with “gift bags” I plan to re-use…
The closet full of every shoe I have ever owned since the beginning of time…
And that’s when it hit me…
“COLLECTING” is really just a fancy way of saying “HOARDING“!
And if I’m not careful…
