Urge to purge

It's the time of year when I feel the need to purge my home of unnecessary items - clothing, knickknacks, paperwork, small appliances, furniture, that sort of thing, and then wrap the whole cleansing event up by using a little bit of good ole fashioned elbow grease to sanitize, deodorize, and make sure all remnants of goldfish, raisins, animal crackers and the like are swept from underneath the couch before bug season arrives.

The proverbial Spring cleaning.

But there are certain items that, no matter how useless or forgotten, never seem to make it to the discard pile. Here are a few.


1. This tee-shirt that my mother bought for Rich before our son was born. She thought it would be cute for him to wear it in the hospital once everything was all said and done. I remember the day I went into labor (10 days late - and I had been testing the quickness of my skills, I guess, when I refused to pack a bag until the very moment when my contractions became less than 5 minutes apart). As I was tossing in personal items and clothing for both me and baby and we were making our way out the door, I asked Rich, "What about the shirt?" "What shirt?" "The dad shirt my mom got you." "Forget it."

But me, being the sentimental sap that I am, ran back to our room and tossed it in the bag. Needless to say, the shirt came home unworn and hasn't EVER been worn. But I can't seem to part with it.

2. This 100th anniversary Hummel collector's plate, which, according to the person who gave it to us, was supposed to yield us a pretty penny. After numerous hopeful checks on Ebay and crazy collector sites, I found out this hideous knickknack will bring in no more than about $100. Very disappointing. But, like the real estate market, I am hoping the market for creepy angel dinnerware will increase. So I am holding onto it.

3. My Girl Scout autograph book, which I used at the end of fifth grade for friends to sign before school let out for the summer. If you went through the autograph craze when you were in elementary school, you might also remember the nifty way of folding each page up and writing the person's name on the outside, (as shown in the photo below on the right, and yes, that really IS that boy's name, which shouldn't illicit laughter at my age, but what a way to go through fifth grade) so you could immediately turn to your favorite messages written by crushes and best girl friends.

There is some funny shit in this book. Mostly written by people I haven't thought of in years. You know, the normal stuff, about how I am a "super kid" and I should have a "super summer" and, my favorite, that I should "never change."

There are also some messages that shed a little light on the kind of person I was in elementary school. Nothing I am proud of, to be sure, like this matter-of-fact note shown on the left. Now that I am reading it again, I have the urge to seek out and call this guy -- whose real identity I'll keep secret but who, you should know, wound up beating me in the 6th grade spelling bee -- and apologize for my insensitivity. Looking back, I know now that my thoughtlessness was clearly a defense mechanism, as I too was taunted by insensitive jerks who felt the need to put others down to make themselves feel better. I am over it though.

Incidentally, this is the same boy who bought me a box of chocolates for Valentine's Day in the 6th grade, and who I secretly pined after until freshman year.

How can I be expected to part with this memento of my youth?