Clutter museum

As my parents' friends were leaving last night, mom tried to stick them with a log of portwine cheese.

Mom: Here--take one!
Friend: No, thank you. We have so much cheese in the house.
Mom: You said you liked it...
Friend: It's delicious, but we really have so much cheese.
Mom: I've only found it at one store. It's hard to find.
Friend: We really. just. can't.
Mom: It goes fast.
Friend: No, thank you. Really.

***
Just now

Mom: Try these pants on.

I do.

Mom: They fit!
A.: I don't like the fit. They're too pleated for my tastes.
Mom: That might come back in style.
A.: It doesn't look good, mom.
Mom: They're warm.
A.: So?
Mom: You never know. You might go somewhere where they'll come in handy.
A.: I have warm pants. That actually fit me well.
Mom: Just take them!
A.: No!
Mom: They're warm!
A.: So what? I don't need another pair of (unflattering) pants.
Mom: You never know.

***
A.: Why does she have all these pressure cookers?
Dad: Half of them don't work.
A.: Then get rid of them.
Dad: That would be 'bad for the environment.'
A.: Buying crap all the time is 'bad for the environment.'
Dad: [Shrug]

***
It's not that my house is clutter free, or that I don't buy things I don't necessarily need. My clothes take up the closets of two of the bedrooms in my house. I too, frequent a local money pit. It's called Crate and Barrel Outlet. Thankfully, it's not so dirt cheap that I can buy $hit I don't need just because it's there, but I do buy $hit that I use so infrequently that I could certainly do without (and never know the difference). I've parted with many clothes that haven't fit me for two years ago, but others have too strong a hold on me and I haven't been able to let them go.

Which is probably why my mom's behavior is threatening to me rather than just annoying: it's like being slightly prone to alcoholism, and observing full-blown addiction--it scares the crap out of you because you're not completely immune. I needn't worry--I don't see myself buying compulsively, without bothering to figure out what I'm throwing into the shopping cart. But every time I think I've made peace with my mom's packratitude, I stumble upon something else completely unnecessary (or at least excessive when found by the dozen) and get riled up.