Discovery

My children are pack rats. Verified and certified pack rats. I would like to make it clear, they did not inherit this trait from me. I am quite the opposite; I get high throwing stuff out. Minimalism to the max, I say.

Exhibit A: I survived all of 2010 without a spatula.
Exhibit B: I only own two bras. Scandalous!

I suspect the kids may be hoarders because there is evidence the condition exists on their father's side of the family.

Exhibit C: We have been storing, and moving a very heavy box of rocks for the entirety of our marriage.

I have been told it is a rock “collection”. I have difficulty seeing it as such because it is cleverly disguised as a box of rocks.

I learned early on, throwing out your husband's treasures without his knowledge = bad wife. As a result, we will continue to store these items for as long as we both shall live.

Fortunately, I have no such obligation to my children, but persuading them to part with anything is like asking them to donate their last kidney. As I refuse to harbor used gum wrappers, endless drawings, party favors, old Valentines, Easter candy rejects, school projects, dead batteries, empty tape dispensers, and various other notions and novelties, I have come up with a solution. Several times a year I kiss them on the head and send them off to school all innocent-like, only to spend the rest of the morning scouring their rooms for contraband. Last month alone, I filled TWO lawn and leaf bags with an assortment of oddments found under beds, in drawers, and tucked in closets. I just pray they never discover the joy (?) of rock collecting.

I expect at some point the kids won't be so thrilled to learn this is routine. I've heard horror stories about things parents find in their teenager's rooms. Thinking I had a few years to go before running onto something they don't want me to see made the following discovery all the more shocking:

Exhibit D:

My 9 year old had stolen my identity.