Hoarders

My house is starting to look like an episode of hoarders.

There's a wide triangular shelf where the wall slopes down to meet the floor in my attic.  I'm looking at it right now.  There's a broken SORRY! game box--missing pieces no doubt, and a Black & Decker sander (what the hell did we ever use that for?)  I see some curtain rods, a broken board of sheet rock and four frosted glass light shades.

There are old clothes spilling out of a Land's End shopping bag, a stuffed bear, a box of Armstrong self-stick adhesive wall border and an antique milk glass lamp I HAD to have on my 36th birthday.  Jeans in various sizes for boys and women and men are tucked between a box of old shoes and a stack of pillows for company.

Oddly, there is a vast array of Snugglies--which turned out to be a huge disappointment for their cumbersome breadth that always seemed to knock over cups and mugs of coffee whenever we got up or sat down with all of that voluminous fabric draped around our body.  There's a black plastic bag (clothes probably), a white plastic shoe rack, a box of bandaids and a box of Space Bags, which again were a grave disappointment.

3 Pokemon books are wedged between a plastic storage container (more clothes that don't fit any of us), a handsaw, a wooden birdhouse I painted with my son several years ago and is that a box of CLUB crackers??!?

We gotta have a garage sale this year or else I will need to buy a black catsuit, rubber gloves and night vision goggles to sneak some of this stuff out of the house while my husband is a asleep.