Why I'd like to punch a gift horse in the mouth

In case you didn’t know this about me, let me share: I cannot stand clutter. Thus, the decision to have three children suggests I must be some kind of masochist. My house is cluttered with children, let alone the clutter that children collect. Like toys, for example.

One of my favorite things to say is, “if you don’t clean up these toys right now, they’re going in the trash.” 1) This hopefully gets the kids to move into action, tidying their books/cars/trains/blocks/whatever lest they lose the beloved playthings. 2) It makes me feel OK about junking a few items here and there. Nothing major—I have yet to actually send Spiderman or a Star Wars light saber to the dump. But just enough of a clear out to feel like we’ve got some much-needed breathing room, and (if anything) rid ourselves of those weird items extracted from birthday goodie bags or trips to the dentist.

Yesterday I once again let the kids play out in the front yard. The toys of choice: my gigantic cardboard boxes from numerous UPS deliveries, proving my point that the kids don’t need all the plastic, battery-operated, shrieking crap they’ve got. All they need is for mommy to keep shopping online and everyone should be happy.

But I digress…the kids: playing outside…

And then I hear a trio of “Wow!” and “So cool!” and “Thank youuuuuuuuu!” and I go out the front door to see one of my neighbors has brought down an entire shopping back of—let’s just call it what it is—crap. Crappy toys that he’s apparently been collecting since the dawn of time.

This is what I like to call the “Disney” collection. Poor Mickey. Obviously got the worse end of a fight with Donald. And, hey! A megaphone! Exactly what this house needs: amplification for noise from the kids.

This we’ve named the “Tin from the 50’s” collection. These toys are not only old and rusty, but they make lots of noise. Yippee! A tin tambourine, complete with sexy gypsy. A scarey-ass clown clacker. Rattles leftover from a New Year's party circa 1955. Twirly gadgets that should have been left on the set of The Howdy Doody Show. And a single wind up firetruck that all three kids are now fighting over. Sweet.

I am not sure what the hell this stuff is. A brass dish? A string with a fly-fishing fly? A miniature sombrero from the neighborhood junkeria? Who knows. And unless it crosses your threshold, who cares.

And my favorites: ceramic figurines. Perfect for play as well as décor.

So awesome.

I need to get those kids to play in the backyard from now on.