One week ago I woke up to view what can only be described as a “white trash yard sale” in the middle of my house. Seriously, if you have ever watched an episode of Storage Wars (a T.V. show that auctions off the contents of abandoned storage units) you get the picture. Our dear Daughter has arrived for the summer! Of course, she didn’t bother packing (other than her clothes) and instead just hauled her stuff ala Sanford & Son to be dumped in the most accommodating place – our living room. After a two day reprieve, (to decompress from graduation) we tackled the sorting, packing and storage of the unsightly mess.

There were tee-shirts imprinted with the logo of every school organization, vendor and event sponsor associated with the school in the past four years; ditto for the number of shot classes and coffee mugs heaped together with a set of melamine dishes and plastic glasses that had obviously seen too many trips to the dish washer. Frying pans and cupcake tins of various shapes and sizes now scarred and rusting from being used like cutting boards littered the pile. There were glue guns (yes multiple), puffy paints, ribbon spools and remnants of tissue paper all stuffed into what had to be a frequently recycled gift bag. It was ugly. But, when all was said and done there were three tidy boxes of possibly useful stuff and a small pile of garbage.

I am hopeful that when she leaves for graduate school in the fall those boxes will go with her, but if not, they will be donated. I say that with such bravado as I am reminded of the closets filled with boxes of Beanie Babies and American Girl Dolls that she refuses to part with from her childhood.

I know a few thirty and forty something’s who still use their parent’s homes like free storage. Although, I don’t want to be that parent, I have to admit that there is a certain sentiment that compels me to hold onto her childhood treasures. At Christmastime, I unpack all 200 + of those Beanie Babies and decorate a tree in the loft just to reminisce with my daughter about that precious stage of life. The stuff on my living room floor did not fall into the category of treasure. Then again, what I see as trash she may see as treasure – ten years from now one of those coffee mugs or shot glasses might evoke strong memories of college days gone by. It’s all in the eye of the beholder.

What about you? Are you still holding onto relics from your children’s past or being used as “free storage?”