Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Warmed-over Wednesday

I was inspired recently when my assistant editor came up with the idea to do Retro Tuesday at Real Teen Faith... an opportunity to re-post some of the most popular pieces.


Cool, I thought, I can do that here. We'll call it Warmed-over Wednesday. It doesn't sound as cool, but trust me... it's as cool... or as warm... as it can get. This column was first published in August of 2007.


My parents called the other day to say they wanted their closet back.


I didn't understand. My stuff had been in it for the past 23 years. Why, all of the sudden, was I getting an eviction notice?


Last Saturday, I made the long eight mile trek from my house to theirs. Ceremoniously, I held my nose while I threw my stuff in white, plastic garbage bags.


Socks. Underwear. Exercise equipment. Cheerios from 1985.


I divided the bags into three categories: trash, charity, and keep (I've watched enough episodes of Clean Sweep to know how this works).


I threw the bags in the trunk and headed for the local charity.


When I got to the charity, I was appalled by language of the man in charge. He waved his hands and cursed wildly at me.


"I'm tired of people bringing #^&$ junk here," he said. "People treat this place like a #^&$ dump. This had better not be #^&$ junk."


I was so thrown off by his words that I was forced to defend myself.


"I assure you," I said as I threw each bag over the railing, "I've brought nothing but exceptional charity items for needy people!"


The last bag landed on the cement with a thud and I hopped in my car and sped away.


I was almost home when I realized: I'd forgotten about the categories. I'd thrown every trash bag over the railing.


Socks. Underwear. Exercise equipment. Cheerios from 1985.


Stink. I'd just given all my #^&$ junk to the local charity.

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I know all about waiting--for the right guy, for high school to end, for my boobs to come in (two out of three ain't bad).


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