Don’t tell my husband

DEAR HOME 911,

It’s nice to be reading your funny column again. My husband and I have been married for two years and live in a house that’s big enough for our stuff, but now I feel overwhelmed by it all. My problem is how to purge the house of clutter. My husband brings home all sorts of things that are not even considered collectible, just magazines, toys, CDs, DVDs that he doesn’t watch, and video games. I feel like I’m drowning from all the clutter. 

Maritess

Dear Maritess,

Since Home 911 started couple of years ago, most of the questions this column has gotten are about clutter and laundry stains. Two unbelievably simple problems that have us stumped all the time.

With regard to clutter, the only way to lessen it is to edit your stuff, then organize them. You can’t start organizing without having to purge first. I know of people who just transfer their clutter from one closet to another, from one room to another and pretty soon it starts to build up again because no new space is really made. A friend of mine managed to clean up their house without throwing a single thing — but in the process lost a spare room to old clothes, reading materials, décor and other things that they don’t want to throw away.

Here are some tips to give your house some breathing space:

1. Throw out your husband (or include him in your garage sale, he might fetch a nice sum) since he causes most of the clutter in your house. 

2. Throw out/sell/give away clothes, shoes and bags you haven’t once used in the past year.

3. Donate books and magazines to school libraries.

4. Sell old newspapers and make some money.

5. Donate unused but usable kitchen implements, curtains, blankets and other home ware to charities or disaster-relief organizations.   

You have to ask your husband whether he’s serious about his collections. If he has Matchbox or Hot Wheels die casts from the 1920s or rookie cards of Michael Jordan and Jerry West — well, those are collector’s items and could probably buy you a new house.

Don’t tell my husband R., but when he’s not looking, I throw away his little action figures. I’m sure he does the same with my stuff — and we both go ballistic over things we don’t really need. He doesn’t collect a single thing — it’s more like random things, such as die-cast cars, animal figures, toy soldiers, oddly shaped lighters, lithium battery chargers, cables, and for reasons known only to him and God, he keeps buying mini flashlights, the kind that you see at the tip of a lighter or a keychain or those the size of a lip balm. He had a phase when would buy a laser pointer every week for no reason other than to annoy the dogs Freeway and Alleyway.

I know enough to know his clutter won’t fetch anything on eBay, unlike his brother’s collections of NBA and baseball cards, rare DVDs and action figures still in their blister packs — all this practically financed his college education in the US.

R., on the other hand, forgets about his things and they end up gathering dust around the house — like dinosaur and rhino figures next to the spoons and forks. So when I’m in my de-cluttering mode, I toss these little suckers into the trashcan. Of course, this has led to many accusations, counter-accusations and tearful denials.

For the past weeks, he’s been trying to find his air pistol. He said it’s been missing a long time but he didn’t ask me about it because he knows I oppose anything resembling a gun in the house. I have nothing against target shooting, I’d like to try it sometime, but even a harmless air pistol in the house makes me uncomfortable because it just looks so real.

Whenever he asks me about it, our conversation feels like Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s on first?” routine.

“Did you see my toy gun?”

“What toy gun? You said you wouldn’t buy one.”

“I didn’t.”

“Do you have one?”

“No.”

“Well then, no, I didn’t see it.”

“You’re lying.”

“About what?”

“The gun.”

“The one that you don’t have?”

“Yes.”

“Did you buy one?”

“No.”

“So it doesn’t matter whether I’m lying or not.”

Long silence. Then he tries another tack.

“I know you hid it in one of your bags.”

“Why would I hide a toy gun that doesn’t exist?”

“Assuming I had one, where would you hide it?”

“In a bag that also doesn’t exist.”

Needless to say, some nights I hear the poor bastard going through the closet in the library, trying to find an imaginary gun hidden in an imaginary bag.

Good luck to him.

* * *

Home 911 answers questions about the home — cleaning problems, DIY projects, decorating ideas, home store resources, and things you’ve always wanted to know about but never had the friends to ask. Home 911 runs twice a month and will ask the experts on your behalf. For questions and suggestions, e-mail philstar_home911@yahoo.com. Please include your  first name/pseudonym.  All questions will be answered through this column, appearing twice a month  — Tanya is too lazy and too chatty to answer individually.