Hey Auntie B!

How ya’ doing dollface? Since I gather you are as OCD as me, I wondered what you do to de-clutter the house when the sheer amount of shit you have makes it look filthy? (Of course, I already know the throw-away-one-thing-for-a-year thing, but hubster out-voted me on doing that.)

Hey, did you get that monkey butler yet? If so, I SO want him to deal with my shit! Can I borrow him?

Thanks for the advice! I’ll let you get back to cussing out your whore pants!

Love always,

Buried under a mountain of shit (not literally)

Hi Prankster!

If you were to visit my home – especially today – you’d say to yourself, “Now THERE is someone who needs to watch Hoarders more often,” and you’d be right. Except there are no more episodes on Netflix which means that I switched to a show called “Obsessed” where (in different episodes) someone was:

a) afraid of an El Camino, yelling, “Oh FUCK! An El Camino” whenever he sees one. This has caused The Guy On My Couch, The Daver and I to randomly scream “El Camino” while the other two cower in “terror.”

b) afraid of eating her own poo*. THIS has lead to The Guy On My Couch, The Daver and I to randomly step out of the bathroom and say, “WHEW, thank GOD I didn’t eat it. It was a close call, though.”

Mental illness, who says it can’t be entertaining?

(not me, and I’ve got a doozy of a case of PTSD)

This is how I clean my house:

Step One: Cut A Hole In The Box

Step One: Look around the house angrily and wonder how three children plus three grownups can amass so much crap.

Step Two: Watch a video about snails.

Step Three: Grab 2 garbage bags and begin to either throw away or donate the shit on the floor and/or anywhere else it’s not supposed to be.

Step Four: Wait for someone to notice.

Step Five: Keep waiting.

Step Six: Continue waiting.

Step Seven: *hum the Jeopardy song*

Step Eight: Watch a video about dancing frogs and/or hamsters (time depending)

Step Nine: Realize no one, in fact, cares about the shit I’m dumping, so begin a massive purging of the home, until I have at least two garbage bags full of stuff to donate.

Step Ten: Allow sufficient bags to accumulate in the garage until Daver drives them over to Goodwill, where they remark, “HOLY FUCK” as he unloads the bags.

And when I’m trying to decide whether or not I should keep an item, I go through these Choose Your Own Adventure Style Questions:

Is it useful? If yes, go on to Question 2.

Is it useful to ME? If yes, go on to Question 3.

Is it REALLY useful?  If yes, go on to Question 4.

You’re not crafty. If still yes, go on to Quest 5.

Place item in DONATE bag.

Or this:

What IS this? If you know the answer, go on to Question 2.

Will they notice if I dump it? If yes, place passive-aggressively on pillow. If no, go on to Question 3.

Do I care if they notice it? If no, go on to Question 4. If yes, place passive aggressively on toilet seat.

Place item at BOTTOM of DONATE bag, then feign ignorance and/or discuss the whereabouts of robot monkey butler Mr. Pinchey until person whose item is now gone is so annoyed that he stalks off, ready to leave the toilet seat up in retaliation.

Plus, I try to get rid of ONE thing each day. It doesn’t always work when short people bring home rocks and sticks that they claim to love, adore, and cherish…until Max and Ruby is on. Then I wander off singing “Max and Poopy” under my breath, while I figure out a way in which I can murder a cartoon bunny rabbit for being so. fucking. annoying.

Also, Prankster, I’m planning to get a Roomba and label him (with my label maker!) Mr. Pinchey. It’s not as awesome as my imaginary camel named Mr. Stompy and it’s not as cool as a REAL monkey butler, but Daver tells me that PETA will throw fake dead fetuses** at my door if I get, then train, a monkey to be my butler. EVEN IF, I was sad to note, I bought him a wee tux.

Damn PETA, holding me back from living mah life.

*Coprophobia, I think.


19 thoughts on “Aunt Becky’s OCD Guide To De-Cluttering

  1. “Step One: Cut A Hole In The Box.” just caused me to spit my coffee all over my computer screen in a fit of laughter in the middle of a lab meeting.

    Aunt Becky’s wit: 1 Gretchen: 0

  2. Have you seen the new movie by Aardman, Pirates, Band of Misfits?! Mr. Pinchey is a movie star! No wonder he’s not cleaning house, he’s working for the big bucks!

  3. I don’t have OCD, I have CDO- get it in the right order dammit!
    What happens when you put a hoarder (My The Daver) and a tosser (me) in the same house? Nothing happens. My The Daver is still looking for paystubs from 1987 that mysteriously vanished as I purged. He’s STILL mad!
    I have not bought my children toys since Christmas, but they multiply somehow. Where does the shit come from? And how can we prevent it from continuing? Is there crap birth control?

  4. I heart you, I heart you, I heart you!!! I so can’t believe my question got picked!

    Anyways, your de-clutter sounds just like mine! Shit.

    ALTHOUGH…I haven’t tried watching Hoarders as a cure yet…maybe I’ll DVR some episodes and turn them on when hubbers gets back…Heeheehee. Passive aggression at its finest!!!

  5. I have never had the urge to eat poop, my own or other peoples. Hell, I pay 42 dollars a month to have a service come and pick up the dog poop in my yard once a week.

  6. i let it all collect until the frustration all builds up and then in a prementrual explosion I run around the house yelling & cursing & throwing everything I can find into a plastic bag. Then I get rid of the evidence myself because the husband asks too many questions. Then I go about my day like it never happened.

  7. I’m currently sitting in the bowels of Hell aka waiting to be selected for Jury duty. This made me laugh so hard I snorted. The jury selection lady just gave me the stink eye and I’m pretty sure everyone in the room thinks I have Tourette’s . Hysterical. AB if I get dismissed because of your blog post I’m going to send you a Monkey butler PETA be damned!

  8. Yeah this is totally what I do. PMS totally plays a role for me too though. I get so OCD and hormonal, I can’t take it anymore so I just start trashing shit. Part of it goes to the trashman, part to Goodwill. I live with a f’ing packrat, so my efforts are soon rendered moot which really kicks the PMS into overdrive, and so the circle of life continues.

  9. And where the fuck are Max and Doobie’s parents?! Even my 7 y/o kid notices. I asked him where the parents were, and he said “I don’t know – Gramma comes to visit. Why doens’t she stay? Not very resposible, if you ask me.”

  10. Brilliant video.

    I hate El Caminos. They make me shudder. I had a guy try to pick me up for a date in one. I offered to drive my car instead.

    I have never seen that Max and whoever show. Seriously. My daughter asked if I meant Bugs Bunny when I mentioned it to my husband to ask him if we’d ever seen the show. I shall avoid it.

  11. Gawd, I have so much shit! I took a giant box and overflowing trash bag to goodwill, the guy thought I was a nutjob. That was JUST from my kids rooms. Sigh…must get rid of more shit. Why? So I can go out and buy more shit. Seriously. I have problems.
    And I HATE HATE HATE Max and Ruby, but from here forward WILL call them Max and Poopy. I cant wait for my 5 year old to start repeating that. WIN!

  12. The problem is that I filled five bags of clothes to donate and STILL have a house full of clutter. Of course, that was a week ago, and I haven’t thrown out anything since. Maybe I need to do one bag/day? I do have a declutter tip, though: you need to call either Purple Heart or Vietnam Vets or one of those places that does pick ups. It’s brilliant because once they’ve picked up from you once, they will phone you once a month, tell you what day they’ll be in your area, and ask if you have anything to donate. HINT: You always tell them yes, you do have things to donate. Then, you will feel guilty and/or stupid if they show up and there are no bags on the porch, so you will go through SOMETHING to clear it out. And you don’t have to go to Goodwill yourself. Easy Peasy.

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