Riddle Her a Junkie – Mary Poppins has nothing on me.

Let’s talk about junk drawers. We all have them.

We usually take an afternoon once a year to make them look like this:


But we all know about 48 hours later they look like this:


My junk drawer is more of a junk family. An all-encompassing slew of junk. A drawer, and a half of another drawer. A cabinet, a closet, half of our laundry room, and our entire garage.

All of this junk can be put into one of two categories. Either it is trash – or it is almost trash.

I have roughly sixteen chargers for electronics I don’t own anymore. But you can bet your ass I won’t be getting rid of any of them. Because WHAT IF!?

What if, when the aliens are invading, they have an old Nokia phone? They will ask me for a charger and I will have one. And then they will see that humans have kind hearts and they will spare my family and me. They will teach us their alien language and then we will rebuild the human race. You’re welcome, guys. My twenty-year old charger just saved the world. Don’t say I never did anything nice for anybody.

I also have approximately seven hundred batteries that I’m not sure are good or not. I can’t throw them away because, as soon as I do, something in my house will die and my children will start crying. Then they will continue to cry until I replace the battery and make the devil-toy work again. Of course, my batteries have a 50/50 shot of working so I may end up with relentless crying either way, but it won’t be because I threw away possibly working batteries. What for? To save space? I’ll just use that space to store more takeout salt and pepper packets.

Then there are the loose nails and screws. Because, despite the fact that all my furniture is still in tact, it shouldn’t be. I have found more screws loose on my ground (or in Mister Mans mouth) than were ever used to actually construct anything I own. I mean, I shop at Ikea. Mostly, my furniture is put together with double sided tape and staples. Where are these screws coming from?

And does anyone else have a stupid number of hotel pens from hotels you’ve never stayed in? No? Just me?

A hammer – because I was too lazy to walk 15 more feet and put it in the garage.

A Ziploc of Tylenol from 10 years ago when I fell down a set of stairs and busted my knee.

A few gift cards that may or may not have a balance on them, but I would have to actually call to find out. Is Sam Goody still in business?

A bunch of pieces of broken glass from a small figurine that I will glue back together when I find the glue under all the lone pieces of gum that have crumbs stuck to the wrappers.

And – the most important junk drawer staple – keys. ‘To what’? You ask. To the car I sold for scraps 10 years ago, the office I worked for 7 years ago, the apartment I lived in when I was 21, the PO Box I never had, the diary I wrote in when I was 9, and my husbands Jeep that I refuse to drive because the brakes make a terrible noise.

ALL OF THIS begs the question – why don’t houses come with larger junk drawers? Because, honestly, no one is going to stop keeping this stuff around, and I’m tired of taking space from my kitchen to house this crap.

Someone fix this.

My idea? A Mary Poppins bag. Something I can store both a lamp and a grape in, but at the drop of a hat, recover either item without even looking.

Or possibly a pair of pants with Bugs Bunny pockets. You know, the kind that look like regular pants and don’t add any bulk to my daily look, but can store an anvil or a piano to drop on someone’s head.

I have more ideas if you would like to hear them. Just let me know.

In the mean time, I’m digging for a paperclip so I can bind together the random pieces of mail that I may need one day but don’t have an actual category to file under. I’ll stick them in my junk drawer for now. But I’m really counting on someone coming up with a better solution.



One thought on “Riddle Her a Junkie – Mary Poppins has nothing on me.

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