Maya is a pack rat…just like her father.
I’ve already discussed how she collects things. Little things, big things, useless things, nice things. She folds these things and puts them into other useless things, and then hides them in random places.
A few weeks ago, for example, I found a piece of paper with a $100 bill rolled up into it. Yes, I know you have questions.
Q: Where did Maya get the $100 bill?
A: I’m going to guess her grandfather.
Q: What made you open that particular piece of paper?
A: Sheer luck.
Q: How many other hundred-dollar bills do you think you’ve unknowingly thrown out?
A: I’m trying not to think about it.
Anyway, now you can see why restoring order to Maya’s room requires enormous concentration and energy.
But during a particularly intense clean up session last week (which involved me getting rid of things like Starbucks lids, an impressive collection of buttons, a variety of rocks, and one rather scary replica of our family), Ali decided to hover around making judgmental conversation.
Ali: “How can you throw that away? Maya made it.”
Me: “Yes she did Ali. She made this and 5,000 other pictures and projects.”
Ali: “You are heartless.”
Me: “Maybe. But we can only keep so much. Would you be interested in taking the rest to your office?”
And then silence, as expected.
Look, I’m not happy that I have to throw Maya’s creations and collections in the trash but if I don’t who’s going to? Nobody that’s who.
At least I don’t do it in front of her. I think that’s pretty considerate, right? Right.