Every person has their secrets. The kind they keep deep down and hidden from those they love. Some deny those secrets and refuse to acknowledge that they exist. However, I'm a full believer in facing things head on. It's simply for the good of your relationship. It turns out...my baby's got a secret.
So, last night I staged an intervention. Of the t-shirt variety.
See, my man is a hoarder. A hoarder of t-shirts.
T and I have a Sunday night tradition. This started about a month ago when we were browsing through TV channels and came across the show Hoarding, Buried Alive on TLC. We were sucked in, and I can't explain why. What can I say? I love watching a train wreck. But little did I know that I was marrying a hoarder, too.
Throughout his young life, T has run in a lot of races and has accumulated an obnoxious amount of t-shirts. Four drawers full of them, and the kind of full where you can't close the drawer because there are so many in there. And when doing laundry, it's become a battle to fit them in there. Honestly, I'm a bit jealous, too, because the boy has more drawer space than I do. Totally unfair! I'M the girl!
We've talked about throwing a t-shirt purging party for the longest time. Every weekend T says "I'm going to do it. I'm going to go through my t-shirts." However, this never happens. I blame wedding planning, family obligations, yard work, and well...laziness. So last night, I decided we were going to do do it. I got home, got out four laundry baskets and emptied each drawer into one.
Please see exhibit A. These are all of T's t-shirts, and these don't even include undershirts. (Those are a whole other ballgame for another day.)
And please see exhibit B. This is all in one small drawer. These are the shirts he actually wears out in public. The others are either shirts to sleep in, exercise shirts, and yard work shirts. Yep, the man has four different types of shirts. It really is shameful.
I debated helping him through this, but I decided I'd be here for emotional support. I sat him down, looked him in the eye, and said "it's OK baby. Well get through this together." But to go through each shirt and decide whether he needs to keep it or toss it? That's up to T and T alone.
It was really funny, really it was. As I listened to him go through each shirt, I kept hearing "But I can't get rid of this shirt! I got this in high school." or "I have to keep this shirt, this one is really comfortable." It was just like those hoarders on TV who come up with every excuse in the book to keep a small pen or a box of Cheerios.
However, as he got through more and more t-shirts, he began to purge more of them. Little by little, the piles got smaller. Finally, we ended up with two baskets from the previous four. See exhibit C.
And exhibit D, this is the pile of Goodwill shirts to be donated.
I'm so proud of him.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not without my flaws, too. I hoard certain items, but I just don't have photographic evidence of them. I have flats in every color and pattern, and these are thrown all over our closet floor. I have a shot glass collection of about 80 or so shot glasses I have accumulated through the year. And I hoard orange juice.
This is exhibit E.
Yes, we have three containers of OJ in our refrigerator, but we did have four just a week ago. I have this problem that whenever I go to the grocery store, I feel the need to get OJ. I know I don't need it, but yet I have the compulsive desire to buy another carton. Every time. And then I get home, and T looks at me and goes "you bought ANOTHER one? We don't need another one!" So now I keep a mental note to myself that I need to shut off that inner voice when I'm at the store. Just say no to OJ!
Sure this may not be t-shirts, but it just goes to show we all have our secrets. But I don't think we'll be needing to call TLC just yet....