Posted in being grown up, family, home

The Hoarder’s Daughter

I got a phone call from my Mum the other day, to tell me she had cleaned out the second kitchen drawer and she had things to give me that she would leave on my bed. For those who are unsure, the second drawer is the one between the nice tidy first drawer and the third drawer which is reserved for cling wrap and tea-towels.

Lovely first drawer (Not my image)
Lovely first drawer (Not my image)

The second drawer is reserved for all those items that do not have a home, like a pound for abandoned puppies and kitties, and in truth, it has roughly the same sadness and hopelessness about it.

Second drawer - the drawer to HELL! (Not my image)
Second drawer – the drawer to HELL! (Not my image)

You see, my mother is somewhat of a hoarder. Not the obsessive, TV appearance level of hoarder; there are no piles of pizza boxes or newspapers which we have carved mazes through. But Mum has trouble throwing things out. It seems that my moving out of home is my Mum’s chance to get rid of all the sad, homeless things she no longer wants to shove in the second drawer but can’t bring herself to throw in the bin.

Lucky me.

Other kind gifts include a silver tea set, a tragically kitsch hand-embroidered apron, a washing basket and the list grows each day. So I started my own dowry. Sure, there are no goats or camels. But I have a saucepan that will be perfect for two-minute noodles, some lovely sugar spoons, and enough utensils to establish my very own second drawer.

This is Julia, being grown up.

 

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Author:

My name is Julia. I'm 24. I like writing and making tragicomic mistakes.

2 thoughts on “The Hoarder’s Daughter

  1. Are you sure you haven’t sneaked into my kitchen? I have the top tidy, cutlery drawer, the third one with tea towels etc. ……and that middle drawer – well it looks pretty much like the one in your photo!

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