I grew up in a family with eight kids. To feed such a large household my Mom bought a lot of food in bulk. Mega packs of cheese slices in the fridge. Half a cow in the basement freezer. Jars of peanut butter the size of beer kegs in the pantry.
Giant jars of dill pickles were other items we always seemed to have on hand. And not the brand name stuff. No, I’m talking about the cheap, mutant pickles that made your face squinch up and your scalp tingle from their tartness.
For some reason we kept the pickle jars after we emptied them. After a quick wash in the kitchen sink, the huge jars were stored on an upper shelf in our mud room. For what purpose, I have no idea. Before long we had a haphazard heap of glass jars perched precariously above our heads as we laced up our shoes and grabbed our jackets.
One evening, as we finished drying the dishes, we watched Dad attempt to add just one more jar to that shelf. Simple physics wouldn’t allow it. A moment later an avalanche of briny glass jars came smashing down over his bloodied head. It was Picklegeddon… the Apicklypse…
Moral of the Story: De-clutter. Nobody needs 12 giant pickle jars. How much of your storage space is taken up by junk you haven’t touched in years? How packed is your closet with clothes you never wear? Reclaim your space and start getting rid of all that pointless stuff. Choose one room or one drawer each week to tackle and be ruthless.
Just watch yourself when you’re working on those upper shelves. (Editor’s note: Dad’s fine)
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