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Wednesday, August 25, 2010

I'm A Thrift Store and I'm Open For Business!

For the past few days, I've been a serious sea of boxes that literally reach higher than my head while trying to figure what needs to go where and which needs to go to the dump finally. I cannot believe the amount of completely useless junk stuff we carry around as a family.


Is there really a reason the hubs still needs to carry around that forearm exercise thingy that has been sitting in the garage for the past few years collecting dust and cockroach turds?


No, there isn't! He still keeps saying he "needs" and just won't let it go. Then when I press on about it, his comment is "I bought it for you so you could work your arms out."


The guilt trip gets sprinkled in and eventually I give in and pack it with the rest of 10 boxes of crap behind me that really needs to find a landfill as a new home.


Seriously folks! How many 12 inch TV's does one family reeeally need?


Well, apparently we need 2, plus two 32 inch, one 20-something inch, and one 42 inch boob-tube to keep us all occupied because apparently living in the real world is just too damn boring!


There is definitely a problem in this house!


What I need to do is hang a "Thrift Store" sign out on my brand new front lawn and let people pick and choose what they want in order to get this stuff out of here.


Doors open at 9 a.m.! Please bring big wallets and even bigger shopping bags!


You just can't touch the Collector Barbie's, but the the two HUGE bins of naked Barbie's in the first bedroom on the right, are all yours for the cheap. Please, take naked Ken too because frankly, he is just weirding me out with that whole "androgynous" thing going on. Mom's, you know what I'm talking about here. Plus, I never did go for guys with plastic hair either.


The next bedroom behind you is the BoyCave. Please be very careful when you go in as it may look neat, but we all know what can happen once that closet door comes open. I promise I'll spray a whole bottle of Febreze in there before you come in.


Now the other bedroom at the end of the house is prime for the taking. Take it all, I don't care! I'd rather those two girls start all over with a clean slate cause everything now has become an eclectic collection of colorful bubblegum bullshit.....


"Pardon my French! "


How they think that a room that looks like Jackson Pollack himself puked all his buckets of paint on, is a decorators dream, is beyond me. I was trying for a whole Morrocan theme in there, but instead they turned it into this India-meets African Safari-meets pre-teen chaos instead!


I want it all out so I can just start over and see what kind of innovative enclave gets created all over again by Nadia and Toni. Let's see: Asian-meets Russian orthodoxy-meets antique shop - meets pre-teen celebrity idol worship theme.


It all has to do with budding hormones you know.



I'm tired, and I'm tired of packing, unpacking, and reorganizing this cluster of Nomads . I just want the pool finished but ----- Oh! I didn't tell you about that???


We have this pool in the backyard that I discovered needs draining, cleaning, repainting, a surface crack repaired, seams caulked (cause it has these fiberglass panels on the side), and a new filter/pump motor to boot! Can't do anything until that pump motor comes in at the end of this week.


Not a tall order would you say?


Every single stinking day the kids come home from school and ask if the pool is ready. Every single stinking day I tell them - as they are STILL looking at the pool cover on - "No, it's almost done."


Looks like mid next week will be the day they will finally get to strip their oversized, overweight backpacks off, and jump right into that pool with their school clothes still on.


Just hope they've taken all the pens and Sharpies out of their little pockets first.


As I go back to sifting through that same sea of boxes I tried to make disappear today - unsuccessfully of course, feel free to let me know if there is anything in particular you're looking for. Odds are, SOMEbody in this house has hoarded it for some reason or another (not mentioning any names... man I married), like the ugly "tiger" picture that that same unmentioned person seems to think will go with anything in the house.


Oh, and would anyone care for a Justin Bieber poster as well?