Who Throws Away a Bowling Ball?

I've decided to take this opportunity to discuss my neurosis with you, my captive audience.

(However, judging from the number of comments from the last two posts, I'm not so sure I have an audience....especially since the comment on the VERY last post was from my daughter, and it was clearly a pity comment, one that I appreciate, yet a pity comment just the same.)

So back to my neurosis. I have a couple thousand of them, but I can't flood you with them all at once, because then I won't even get a pity comment. And goodness knows I'm all about the comment.

I was having a conversation with some people last night...OK, family members.... and I was accused of throwing away their stuff, and when I tried to defend my actions I was told (and I quote) "It's just so hard to have a couple of extra things around." Did you catch the sarcastic edge there? Yah. Me too.

Let's get something straight here before I really get going. This post, could in reality go on for eternity if I let it. When I went in and repainted my kid's rooms after they left home, and threw away their treasures, (absolute crap....and trust me, I don't use the word crap lightly because I know people who are squeemish with the word crap and I don't want to offend, but it really IS the only word that can be used here..), I threw and threw and threw and threw. And I didn't feel guilty. In fact I felt free. I FELT FREE, YES FREE my fellow brothers and sisters of the human race. And it was then that I discovered that I have an aversion to other people's stuff. It stifles me. It makes me feel closed in and worried, and cantankerous. I love walking into a hotel room and knowing that no body's stuff is in there. I love opening a closet door and having it be empty. Especially if it is in my house. I don't have a problem if I go into someone else's home and it is full of their stuff...That's not the problem. The crux of the matter is that I just don't want to be responsible for a lot of stuff. I don't want stuff. Yet I continue to buy stuff, which accounts for my worriedness and cantankerousness. I hate that I buy stuff. But I have fun doing it. I just don't have fun living with it. You see the neurosis here? Yep. I'm a case

But before you judge too harshly, here's a glimpse of a VERY small portion of the junk that I have been know to throw away, to not "keep around because it is just too hard."

First, I might have thrown away candles from Chile

Yeah, I know, seems pretty heinous. but let me just let you know that they were in coconut shells cut in half and stunk like 3rd world country. Or mold. You decide.

Second, I definitely threw away a shopping bag full of tags

You think I'm kidding. I'm not. You think there were only a couple of tags in there. THERE WERE MILLIONS. Case closed.

Third, I might have thrown away a CD of Russian Music, In Russian, That sounded like Nothing

I just have nothing more to say about the CD. I refrain from gratuitous use of the C-R-A-P word.

Fourth, a Bowling Ball. Yes. You heard right. I threw away a bowling ball.

I'll be honest. This is the item that elicited the "It's too much trouble to keep crap" comment. It was a present, to a child, from someone who probably was hoping that their wildest dreams would come true and she would marry them because of the bowling ball. I knew the minute I saw that thing being carried through the front door that it was going to be trouble. I saw that child go on a mission for our church. 18 months I kept the bowling ball. I saw her go back to college. Still the bowling ball at my house. I saw her date lots more boys. Still the ball was rolling around in my spare room. I saw her get married. At each step I would say, "do you want this bowling ball?" Only by the time I said it for the last time I probably put a stupid in front of the bowling ball. I couldn't see that ball going anywhere but with me to the grave. I gave it to Good Will. So arrest me.

Fifth: You might dub this the "shoe portion" of this event. I most assuradly threw away Red platform sandals that were never worn, never will be worn, except for a talent show where someone (one of my kids) might be trying to look really stupid.

Guess what? I think these originally came from Good Will and they went right back to the mother ship for more non good times

And Last, I tearfully thew away a pair of Homer Simpson Slippers.

These were a Christmas gift to my youngest who had size 13 feet and these were only a size 12. He stuffed his foot into them anyway and shuffled around on Christmas. Yep. He put his foot in Homer's mouth and we all laughed wildly as you do on Christmas when something ridiculous turns up. Despite the sentimental value, the warm and fuzzy memories, what am I supposed to do with a pair of Homie slippers the rest of my life? Look at them and cry? Look at them and wish they had a little spot in them I could push that said "doh"? I don't think so.

In conclusion, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I submit that my neurosis is one that I am comfortable with for now. I embrace it with the arms of the universe, and shout loudly and clearly, for all to hear and witness:

I, yes I, am someone who throws away a bowling ball.