I will be the first to admit I am a toy hoarder. I think it goes back to when I was young and I had the first Barbie doll. The first one. She was wearing a black and white bathing suit. My mom gave away all of our toys to the church when we were older. She didn’t even ask us. We just came home from high school one day and she announced that she gave our toys to our church. How non-christian. Thou shalt not steal and all.
I ran to my room and saw that my boxed youth was gone. My Barbie dolls, my trolls, even my Dr. Seuss books. My Nancy Drew books were safe. Well, four of them were. Some little Sunday school munchkin now had my Barbie doll. That’s probably why I don’t go to church anymore. I was so mad at my mom I couldn’t see straight.
So, I hid her cigarettes for weeks afterwards. She smoked about 85 packs a day, but I made sure she thought she was smoking much more. I would take a cigarette out of her pack about five times a day and throw it away, one at a time. I figure that was about 60 cigarettes. Less curling and twisting smoke making its way second-hand like into my poor, little, innocent lungs. I don’t know why that felt like silent vindication, but it did. It was just wrong to give away my toys.
So, I vowed that I when ever I had children, I was going to keep their toys. And I have. Well, they are out at my old house. Everything is boxed up and labled. For example, there are 4 huge plastic boxes full of nothing but Lego’s. I told my ex-husband not to even think about giving away their toys.
“Vickie, there’s a box of Adam’s ghost buster toys…..” I stopped him in his tracks.
“Don’t even think about it. Those are Adam’s Ghost Buster’s. Even if he says, “Dad, I don’t want those Ghost Busters anymore. I am 25 years old,” I don’t care. I will then take ownership. Leave them packed. OKKKKKK????”
So, there are packed boxes of Cherry Merry Muffins, and Ninja Turtles, Barbies, Matchbox cars, and abut 70 Beanie Babies, just to name a few.
My daughter wanted to have a yard sale last summer. She informed me that she didn’t want most of her toys, especially her Beanie Babies. It brought a tear to my eye. Not really, but I could have if I wanted to. “But, Alex, they are brand new. Wouldn’t it be great to bring out one every once in a while for your own little girl? “ She just rolled her eyes at me. I took that as a “We won’t have a yard sale then.” Mom’s toy hoarding prevails. So, in the future, when crazy Grandma Vickie comes to visit, she will have a Beanie Baby for the grandchild, and in the end, Alex will have them in her home and she won’t be able to give them away. hahaha
I did tell my daughter, just for laughs, “And you can’t sell the Rosie O’Donnell Barbie in the box.” I made her keep that doll in the box, because “it was going to be worth something some day.” Ok, maybe when hell freezes over.
So, whenever I decide to quit renting and buy a house for myself, I am going out to my ex-husbands to collect all the toys and books that he is keeping for the kids.
Because I don’t trust him. We have too many of these phone conversations:
“Vickie……there is a box of stuffed monkeys in Lexy’s closet. Seriously, just monkeys. You know that, right?…….Vickie, when is enough enough?…..But, she doesn’t want them…….You remember their names?……Yes, I remember I named the gorilla Reuben……….Well, Vickie, they are easy to give away because they are f(&*^& stuffed monkeys…….Hello?……..Vick, you there?”