At the end of February I went to check on my kids in college and finish cleaning out my Ohio home. There were a few small problem areas, let’s just say. I had the moving company pack up the rest of the stuff I wanted and Kon Mari’d the rest.
I am one to befriend the packers. If you treat them nicely, they treat your things nicely (for the most part). One of the young gentleman liked a lot of my stuff. A 23 year old African American, he said had his own collections going, extending to the outbuildings of his home. He had a big smile, tamed dreads, and baggy shorts.
“Stop!” I warned him, “Don’t end up like me!”
“I can’t help myself!” he bemoaned.
It escapes me just exactly what he collected but it was all innocuous stuff like Beanie Babies. Or my collections of tea towels, Starbucks mugs, and French milled soaps. Something like that but it extended beyond the confines of his home. There was already too much inside.
In any event, at the end of the day, we surveyed the basement.
“Look carefully, just to be sure.”
“Nah, I’m good. We cleaned that closet out a long time ago.”
“Are you sure?” he insisted. “You don’t want to miss anything.”
So I looked again. This time I was paying sufficient attention.
There, tucked between two two by fours was a plastic art portfolio from Brazil. I took it out.
The label said MAMMOGRAMS. Inside were all my Third World boob shots.
Peeking out underneath the plastic flap of the folder was a red poster board. So I opened up the folder and inside was Thing 3’s project from 7th grade on her grandmother. It was the Sally Sighting I needed. I had wailed to my sisters earlier that morning that I had not yet had one. MoodRingMomma had had her dream and MCV her wok shot (a story for another day).
That my Sally Sighting came wrapped in a MAMMOGRAM made me laugh. I hope it does you too!