The Collector

I like to think of myself as a purger. On about a weekly basis I find myself going through closets, toy bins, and drawers, gathering things to drop off at GoodWill or the Salvation Army. I seriously get a high from dropping things off, the same high I get when the recycling gets picked up. I know, I am weird, but hey, at least I am honest.

That being said, I am shocked to discover that I somehow seem to be raising little hoarders. No, its not like the show. Our house, though small and full, is not that cluttered. It’s just that Tyus and Eli have a penchant for collections. There are little wooden craft boxes all over our house. Yes, that is what happens when you homeschool which only takes an hour, tops. All their buddies are most assuredly still putting their book bags in their cubbies by the time our routine is over. What do I find myself doing in this situation? I end up buying crappy crafts from Michael’s that my kids do on a weekly basis. Thus, we have ended with dozens of heinous boxes and such all over the boys’ bedroom that ¬†cannot be thrown away, because they are their self-proclaimed “favorites” or “special specials.”


Inside these treasure boxes, depending on the week, one may find collections ranging from seed collections to rock collections to bb collections (as in the things shot out of bb guns that are found all over the streets in our collegiate neighborhood). We also have a treasured bottle cap collection. Now this is a collection with some staying power. It began when we moved out here and since then has grown to 2 tin lunch boxes chock full of these treasures.

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