de cluttering by a natural born hoarder

I'm not sure if you can actually be born a hoarder, I'm sure you cant but I was certainly brought up by parents who really don't like to throw anything away. And my mum really loves to shop. She has a particular penchant for M&S knitwear and must have a round neck jumper in every colour they have ever made. In triplicate. She wont mind me telling you she's a life long member of Weight Watchers, so she also stocks a wide range of sizes too. Come to think of it, if you were ever brave enough to open the highest wardrobe doors you could probably clothe many a pensioner, of all sizes, shapes and complexions with the contents.  

 

 

 

Luckily my dad is far more of a buy quality and make it last kind of guy, though he does have rather a large cotton handkerchief collection (not helped by my annual unimaginative Christmas gifting) . But that's just clothes. They also have 'stuff' and lots of it. To give you an idea of the scale we're talking of, my dad used to help out at my primary school PTA  (I'm  43, this was a long time ago) and a few years ago I found a box of old toys he'd been keeping which weren't  even mine. They'd been donated and unsold at some sort of bring and buy event in about 1979. To be fair to my dad, he has been quietly purging their attic, basement and cupboards over the years. Unfortunately  in his quest to sort his own house out, he's passed anything connected to me, to me. And now its in my attic. All my school books, all my toys and games , some of my old clothes, ballet costumes, books, everything. and you guessed it, I can't bloody throw it away either! 

 

My daughters played with my old Barbie caravan for about 5 minutes, and some of my old games, 'from the olden days' have been tolerated, but in general the girls  were put off by the musty, unmistakable scent of attic and abandonment, and missing parts.  But my dad really thinks I should thank him for keeping all this stuff. I kid you not, when my daughter was potty training, my dad gave me my old potty. When I asked quite incredulously why they still had it, my dad genuinely  asked what else would they have done with it?  Thrown it away maybe, like a normal person?

 

I sort of understand why my dad clings on to even something as gross as a pot his infant daughter weed and pooed in. He went off to join the RAF when he was 17 and when he got home 3 years later his parents had moved house and thrown away all his things. Everything. He still hasn't forgiven them for chucking away  his train set. I  think we can safely say my grandparents wouldn't have  attached a jot of sentimentality to a potty and would be a little alarmed to know that their son had kept mine in order to pass it down his granddaughter. My other grandparents apparently threw a load of old paintings in a river. Come to think of it, the hoarding is the least of my worries. My family are genuinely barmy. Its lucky I'm so normal, even if I have inherited the hoarding gene. Now where did I put that potty?