One of my favourite things in the whole world is getting rid of stuff. I may not be a clean freak, but I hate clutter, so I save up all my energy three or four times a year and purge as much as possible until I fall down exhausted. These days usually hover around the girls’ birthdays and at Christmas. Out with the old in with the new, one-in-one-out type deal. This go ’round, I took two days and filled two giant garbage bags (that’s not an observation; the size is actually “Giant”) of stuff to donate, one regular sized garbage bag to dump, and nearly filled a recycling bin. Two successful, satisfying days of chucking junk.
However, I do have a teeny weeny hoarding problem when it comes to cards. I keep all of them. All. Of. Them. It’s gross. So yesterday, while I was in the throes of a major purge, I decided to tackle the mountain. To be honest, I couldn’t get rid of too many. Maybe a quarter of them, if I’m being generous, but I did sort them so that they’re now at least more manageable, not just a giant pile of everyone’s cards thrown into a box. Worse than it should be, but better than before.
While I was going through the cards, I was reminded that up until about two years ago, my brother hadn’t once signed a card with his own name, ever. Pseudonyms, that was his thing.
A Comprehensive List of Pseudonyms My Brother Has Briefly Assumed:
- The Rooster
- Mark Wahlberg
- Frankie Muniz
- The Strongest Man Alive Now That Superman Is Dead
- George Burns (on a 100th birthday card he gave me for my 30th)
- Uncle K-Money
- Barfy McPuke
- The Materialized Unbridled Rage of Gallagher
- Future Uncle of Omega Death
- Boba Fett
- The Man Of Your Dreams (on a card to AH)
- The Dramatic Chipmunk
- Brock Lesnar’s Left Bicep
So that’s what I did on my day off. I organized and threw out toys and junk and I sorted several hundred greeting cards. But then my mother in law took the kids to the zoo, so I finished up right quick and read on my back patio for an hour or so in the heat until I nearly fell asleep. Can anyone tell me – does A Game Of Thrones EVER end? And then I sat around wondering if my kids were holding their Granny hostage because that’s the only explanation as to how I could be sitting with nothing to do and no one to yell at for fighting. I know how to party.
* I apologize for this post entirely. Obviously, I wrote it while I was wondering where my kids were, but I failed to actually have anything of value to say before I started typing.