Today I attempted the dreary task of tidying up The Pink Pit (aka the kids' bedroom). This is what I found in Firstborn's desk:
- 14 taxi cards
- 3 empty packs of Smarties
- 6 crumpled tinfoil balls
- 7 rubber bands (the ones the postman thoughtfully leaves scattered on the floor in the communal entrace of our building)
- 23 random bits of torn up paper, one with "ur sillee" written on it
- 7 dried-up felt-tip pens
- The Autumn-Winter '07 Boden catalogue
- 3 random business cards (stolen from my purse, I suspect)
- My library card (given up as lost months ago, paid £5 for a new one)
- My gym locker combi-lock (ditto)
- 9 scrumpled up bits of tissue
- 8 sheets of used stickers
- 1 pink Hello Kitty sock
- 7 letters from school (none of which I'd seen before)
- £1.32 in small change
- Half a banana, slightly furry
- Living-etc magazine, May issue
- Alpha's 'DIY Doctor' manual (in pristine condition, ahem)
- 2 empty packs of Teddy Pom Pom crisps
- 1 old Council Tax bill
- 1 headless Barbie
Where does this strange hoarding instinct for rubbish come from? What's the appeal? Is it early onset slob-ism or full-blown kleptomania? Should I be concerned?
Pass me the Pinot, sweetie, this parenting lark is way too weighty for this particular slummy mummy.
Comments
He absolutely loves all those cheap plastic whistles, men with parachutes, rings, tattoos, badges and keyrings.
And if ever I try to throw any of it away, well, let's just say I have a battle on my hands.
The only solution is to offer a bribe of a more acceptable toy in return for the drawer full of junk - you could just do a stealthy sweep and then look innocent when your small darling demands to know where the tat is, but this can be a risky strategy.
Good luck!
www.froginthefield.co.uk.