Opening the Box?!

My wife doesn't like clutter. Hates it. Her feelings stem from growing up in a big chaotic family and household where the homes for the random household items were rarely, if ever, found by those items. "Everything has a home," she tells our kids.

But our kids are also my kids, and while not quite being a hoarder, I do exhibit mild hoarding tendencies. I am a packrat when it comes to paper waste--I'm perpetually collecting artifacts for some artistic display later, and my kids share this tendency with me.

Over the years I've gotten better at tossing stuff and clearing out my loads of crap. Sometimes the things aren't crap, but clunky yet. Sometimes they may be able to be sold. And sometimes my kids want to play with them.

Lately, I've said, "Aw, the hell with it..." One thing I had in a box labeled "Pat's Collectibles" was the following toy:

It turns out Carles Barkley was the only non-MJ player to get a figurine. My son said, "Can we open it and play with it? I know you love the coyote..." He does know me well. I told him once I checked the value of selling it eBay, if it wasn't crazy high, he could definitely open it and play with it.

It's now being played with by my son while I regale him of stories of Chuck's game. 

I figured it made it easier to be one step closer to the trash, which would make Corrie happy.

Other items were duplicate bobble-heads---one set are being played with and broken in my house while one set stays in the "Collectibles" box---of, get this, Lance Berkman and the fictional Rojo Johnson, a character played by Will Ferrell, when he came to the Round Rock stadium one random night in 2010. 

One step closer to the trashcan...