Binge and Purge.

When I get my teeth in something, I get an overwhelming urge to purchase it. A LOT of it. You can look at our collection of ceramic bowls, Playmobile toys, BRIO train tracks, or - most recently - embroidery floss. (Thanks to a resurgence in my crafting skillz, I am making friendship bracelets. LOTS. The old-skool, knotted kind. Check it.)

My Dr. Jekyll, though, prevents me from hanging on to things too long. I have a primal need to get rid of Stuff. I'm known in my family for throwing things away. My Dad gave Elliot a beautiful, self-made E-L-L-I-O-T name train for his first Christmas. Not 5 minutes after it had been opened did Dad tell me not to throw it away because "those pieces are more expensive than they look." Never mind the craftsmanship, or the sentimentality of the gift (or the difficulty in finding another Elliot who would want to buy the shaggin' thing), Dad felt he had to say this out loud. At that moment. On Christmas. Like I said, I have a known problem.


Anyway, today Dr. Jekyll was in full swing. And (given my recent disillusionment with ebay) Gumtree and I got rid of a lot of Stuff. Our double buggy was the biggest item; a baby teething ring, the smallest.

£250

£15

£25

£20

£15

I'm glad to have a cleaner home. Really. However, while the Eastern European woman with intriguingly wide-spaced toes was rooting through my children's baby things, I did falter. Would I really not have another need for this? Is my door really that firmly closed? Will we not be a family of five? Dr. Jekyll seems to think so. He's also looking to sell a breast pump, if you know anyone.