I came out of the closet...

This is the problem with cleaning out A closet... you get this whole We Should Do All Closets! type feeling going on - let's dump all the stuff from exes we'd forgotten about, or parents/siblings whose taste is....not mine... putting it politely - only to find?

In the middle of that first closet? You start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you and one of those people on Hoarders have something in common. That whole concept of keeping things so you feel remembered, or loved, or ..... guilty for getting rid of them and someone else will be angry with you, so you hang onto it, even though you don't like it. Even though it sees the light of day for four days a year. If that. Some of it truly is only seen inside the closet, on, perhaps, what one might call the Yearly Closet Inspection During The Visit.

One closet is plenty. Too many memories to sift through; all that stuff I've kept for Who Only Knows What Reason -the itchy pillow cases I never use; the orange wool sweater from the ex who totally destroyed me. Why do I hang onto that? An. Orange. Wool. Sweater. Shoes that Pucker ate, that I replaced - but I still couldn't throw out the eaten one - they were my lucky shoes! K keeps digging, every now and again giving me that look, the one that says You'd Better Have A Damn Good Reason Why THIS Is Still Here!

Take, for example, the bag my mother gave me (with a matching hat, I shit you not) that looks as though she stole it off a huge southern lady, fresh from church on a corner cross from the liquor store, sitting in Popeye's Chicken, waitin' on her 12 piece all dark meat to take home to her youngun's. You know, that kind of bag. With matching hat.

She gave it to me for my birthday. I did what I always do: pretend to like it....followed by stuffing it in the closet.

In a word?

K looked at it, was all WTF - I tell her, mom makes this big freaking deal over stupid hat/bag combo - yes, I love hats; think big english wedding hats, high tea hats, the ones worn at fancy horse races, wide brimmed, simple, with a huge ribbon adorning the brim - not green, net, with sequins and weird flowers all over it. K wants to know why after 3 years, I've still kept it. It's soooo (add snorting laughter here) not your style.

Picks up matching bag. (more snorting laughter)

I explain, she'll KILL me if I throw this away - and, God bless K - she says, isn't it a pity that Pucker ate it?

Both pieces.

Boy. I'm just destroyed.

See?

This is why girlfriends help clean out closets. They talk us into realizing that a sweater didn't keep us feeling loved, or warm (nor was it terribly attractive to begin with! and, looking back on it, neither was he), a jacket purchased three years ago will never come back into style; not even Salvation Army would resell it. They justify tossing all the ugly stuff we feel obligated to keep AND will find acceptable reasons to give nosy relatives when they go looking for them in the closet.

Trust me on this one: mom WILL ask me where said bag/hat is.

I'll tell her I had to toss it. (which is the truth...) because Pucker ate it (not quite the truth...though given enough time and access? She might well have ingested it. Sequins and all).

All of it is currently, out at the curb, awaiting the trash tuck, which comes tomorrow.

Thank God Pucker can't talk - that bitch'd throw me under the bus in a heartbeat, especially if being grilled by a woman holding any form of Mostly Edible Item.