“Oh no, you don’t.”
She ignored me and did what she came to do—add yet another item to THE PILE in my home office.
Allow me to explain.
THE PILE is exactly what its name suggests: an oversized pile of random stuff that spontaneously sprouts up here and there in our house.
While the home office may be mine, the pile is hers, which speaks volumes about whose space this actually is.
This time, what she added was a big box of pots and pans.
“Where did that junk come from?” I asked.
“You wanted me to start clearing out the storage locker…”
“So you dump it here?”
“Where else am I going to put it?”
“In a dumpster?”
“These were my grandmother’s,” she said, somewhat shocked and a little hurt.
“That’s the solution!” I told her. “Why don’t you do a grandma’s giveaway?”
In a flash, a realization struck home.
“I could.”
That’s when she got excited.
The box of pots and pans was cast into a giveaway pile, soon joined by a small flurry of plastic grocery bags, each containing a unique set of treasures.
“This can go to Shelby, this to Nick, and this to Maddie.”
But you have to understand something. What is treasure to her is not necessarily treasure to Shelby, Nick, or Maddie. In fact, none of the grandchildren ever seem to see the same utility in these things as she does.
I suppose the emotional attachment she holds for each precious item isn’t quite a shared value. It’s like watching Antiques Roadshow with a ten-year-old. What’s worth millions to one isn’t even worth a trip to the trash bin for the other.
“You sure they’ll want that stuff?” I asked.
“If they don’t, they can toss it.”
A half hour later, she finished loading the car.
“You sure you want to head over there now?” I asked. “They’re probably sleeping.” The grandkids all work third shift together and sleep during the day.
“That’s okay, I’ll just put it on their porch.”
“Remember last time, when the screen door was latched?”
“I do, and who does that in the country anyway? But if the door is locked, I’ll do what I did before—stash it in their cars.”
And off she went.
A bit later, she came back looking perplexed.
“The screen door was locked again. I knew they were sleeping, so rather than ring the doorbell, I went to put the giveaways in their cars…”
“And?”
“They locked their car doors too!”
I guess the grandkids are catching on.
Almost Iowa 