The Secret Life of a 5-year-old Hoarder
My name is Maya and I am a hoarder.
In order words – I keep every single useless, old, worthless thing I can get my hands on.
Isn’t it ironic that my minimalist mom has a daughter who can’t throw anything away? I also think it’s funny that my mom is a vomit-phobe and I throw up like it’s going out of style. Sometimes I throw up just to gross her out – but please don’t tell her I said so.
Anyway, my mom always yells at my dad for bringing home free junk from events he attends, but I don’t think it’s junk at all! See? I found a way to use the stack of leftover HP stickers he brought the other day:
I wrote all over them and then taped them to a leather chair. Smart, huh?
I also found a purpose for the adult sized Team Galaxy scarf my dad brought me last week – I used it to keep the treasure chest (which I use to hoard all my old drawings in) warm….
But the scarf has since disappeared! My mom said she has no idea where it went but I think she’s lying. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Okay so I’ll admit I have a small problem hoarding free Trader Joe’s stickers – but who can turn down free stickers?
And I won’t let my mom give away a single one of my stuffed animals – not even the one my mom says gives off bad vibes because of who gave it to me.
I know you must be curious but I won’t name any names or identify any particular stuffed animal because I want to live to see another day.
Just the other day I rescued a piece of cardboard from the recycling bag because I couldn’t bear to see it go. I used it to make myself a basketball hoop with a pair of my mom’s good earphones.
She got really angry that the earphones broke but I got mad back and told her it wasn’t nice to stifle my creativity.
I firmly believe hoarding is a genetic thing and obviously I learned from my enabler dad. I mean just look at this?
Even I don’t hoard cables. Yet.
Recycled Cake
Me: “Maya, what is that on your shirt?”
Maya: “Nothing.”
Me: “That brown stuff there, what is that?”
Maya: “It’s nothing. It’s not chocolate or anything.”
Me: “It’s 9:30 in the morning Maya, I hope you aren’t eating chocolate. Are you eating chocolate?”
Maya: “No.”
Me: “Don’t lie to me Maya, I can see chocolate on your face too. Where did you get it?”
Maya (guilty face): “I didn’t have chocolate.”
Me: “I am going to be more upset if you are lying to me than if you ate chocolate. Tell me the truth – did you have chocolate?”
Maya (scared for her life): “Yes I did.”
Me: “From where?”
Maya: “From the cake box that was in the recycling pile.”
Me: “WHAT?”
Maya: “It was just a little bit.”
Apparently there is nothing like icing from an old cake box. Bonus points if the box is in a recycling pile.
I realize that I shouldn’t be giving parenting advice seeing as my kid is basically eating out of the trash, but allow me to share a pearl of wisdom:
Encouraging your kid to tell the truth when you know she is lying isn’t always the best approach. Why? Because when she finally tells you the truth you can’t smack her silly without contradicting yourself. And where does that leave you?
Mad as hell with nobody to smack.
Dear Escalade Dad
Dear Escalade Dad –
I realize this letter is coming out of left field – forgive me. You seem like a nice guy. And kudos to you for picking up your kids every day! You are one of the very few fathers that I see at school and I admire your dedication to your children.
What I don’t admire is that you insist on double parking directly outside the front of the school every single afternoon. Do you realize you are creating a traffic jam and hazardous conditions for all involved? Or are the honking horns not a dead giveaway?
Do you know what really drives me crazy? The fact that you double park AND let your engine idle away as you block the street. So in essence, you are singlehandedly creating a traffic hazard and ruining the environment at the same time.
Selfish much?
I am trying to cut you a bit of slack because I realize having an SUV makes you think you should be afforded benefits that other people don’t have. You see, prior to my current car I had an SUV and I loved it more than I love my child. It’s been nearly 3 years and I still miss it.
I understand that you feel like you are king of the road! I know that a 5 ton vehicle can make you feel invincible. I get it, I truly do. But having an SUV doesn’t give you a license (no pun intended) to inconvenience me and the other parents. If there is anything I hate – and my husband can attest to this – it is being inconvenienced by the laziness of others.
Please consider this a friendly little request to maneuver your vehicle into a parking spot somewhere and TURN IT OFF. Me, the other parents, and the thinning ozone layer thank you in advance for your consideration.
Sincerely,
An Inconvenienced Parent
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 