Not of my own stuff, oh no, that disappears faster than my memories of a full nights sleep.
I’m a hoarder of tat. The kids tat. The kids cheap, plastic, worthless, often broken, rarely played with, curse-inducing when stepped on in the dark, tat.
So much have we accumulated that it now has its own box; and what a mistake that was.
What I’ve created is the perfect environment in which the tat can grow, mutate, multiply and replicate at a frightening rate. An industrial sized petri dish in which to spawn a tat pandemic.
What I’ve created is a monster!
There’s nothing a kids magazine can give away that we don’t already own a dozen of. Telescopes, walkie-talkies, finger puppets, stickers, and enough dinner sets to feed the five thousand teddy bears I don’t remember ever buying?
There’s memories of a bygone Happy Meal, the contents of at least six party bags, snapped off parts from board games we no longer own (and possibly never did), the ghosts of museum shop tantrums, and random plastic … bits(?) that may at one point have been attached to the hoover, and I’ll be honest, it could be weeks before that becomes apparent.
Broken crayons, raisins that probably entered as grapes, jigsaw pieces, figurines, dice, farmyard animals, LEGO, sunglasses, and building blocks.
Bits and bobs, odds and sods, thingymajigs, watchamacalits, doofers, gubbins, and so much more besides.
Well this week I reached breaking point; we needed a clear out.
So I asked Luca to help and quickly discovered the origins of the phrase ‘pissing in the wind’. We made two piles, one to keep and one to go. The latter consisted of half a bread-stick?
Unperturbed I waited until they were both in school, and with bin-bag in hand set about a tat cull. Nothing was sacred, if it wanted to stay it’d better have a damn good reason to be spared.
And here’s the result, in the form of a game of spot the difference ….
What, you can’t see any differences? C’mon you’re not trying hard enough, there’s five!
No? OK, here’s the answers…
(1) a Coco Pop. (2) a paper-clip. (3) half a clothes peg. (4) another Coco Pop. (5) I’m not sure what it was but it may have once been alive.
I know, I get it. I AM the problem but honestly, what would you have thrown away?
The broken plastic slinky? How could you, they’ve given him a name, Mr Humpty Doo.
The pipe-cleaner? Like Mr Maker won’t make a jet propelled hover board out of that the minute I’ve thrown it away.
The jigsaw piece? Do you know how many times I’ve had to do that jigsaw knowing this piece was missing!
The egg box? Shame on you, that’s a musical instrument!
I admit it, the bits and bobs box beat me, so I’ve asked Janet to take it on, and her clear-outs can be brutal.
So if you see me head first in the recycling bins please pull me out. I need help letting go of the dried out felt-tips and broken bubble wands. They really aren’t worth it.