Stuff

As I was sitting on my front step, looking out at the vast landscape of trash that stretched before me, I realized that I don't really give a crap about any of my stuff. In fact, I loathe my stuff. I am so happy to be trashing all of the junk that lives in the corners of my house. In fact - I hope it catches on fire again while it is on the curb waiting for the trash men to pick it up - that's how much I hate my stuff.

I often dream of living in a minimalist house where all we have is a hot plate, a small fridge, and a tv with the MLB package... oh... and my laptop... and a recliner... and maybe some nice speakers. And my ipod. See - this is how it starts, the accumulation of junk. Who needs this stuff? I certainly don't. I have five kids who are all alive.

They entertain me with their antics. Like today - Robby slammed his head on the dining room table while he was running away from Mommy for something he did. The day that Sammy got home from the hospital he was hanging - HEAD FIRST - off of the back of the couch. James got new Spiderman glasses today and was so excited to tell me all about them. Anna and Ella have become princesses and won't wear anything to bed except for night gowns.

Who needs stuff? I've got kids!