There it is, sitting in
the a Donate Box for the second time.
On the day it was deemed “outgrown” it went straight to the Donate Box. That’s where things go when they’re identified as clutter.
Pants too small? Take it to the Donate Box.
Sweater too itchy? Take it to the Donate Box.
Toy too babyish? Take it to the Donate Box.
But that right there, folks, is a right colorful game. (I feel the cowboy-theme deserves a little twang, don’t you?)
So colorful that my daughter exclaimed in delight when she saw it. She recalled fond memories of playing it at so-and-so’s house and of Daddy jumping out of his seat in (totally unfeigned) surprise when the bronco bucked.
“Can I play with it?”
I felt slightly nervous, but one way I’ve convinced them decluttering isn’t painful is by letting them take truly missed items out of the Donate Box.
Go ahead and stick it in there. If you really, truly, honestly miss it before the box leaves the house, you can get it back.
They rarely miss anything.
She played the game on the living room rug, and I folded laundry and made dinner and didn’t think another thing about it.
Until the next morning, when I walked past the Donate Box again.
There it was, sitting right on top.
My Slob Mama Heart swelled with decluttering pride.
She saw, she remembered, she reminisced and re-enjoyed, and then she let it go.
I think we have made some brain-changing progress in this family.