IT'S ALLIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!!!!

What do the words "Leadie", "Pollie" and "Brownie" have in common?

These are just a few of the names my children have given to gazillions of everyday objects that sit around my house gathering dust and taking up space.

Leadie is a pencil - a broken pencil.  Pollie is a long metal pole we keep in the twins room to open their skylight.  And Brownie is a box.  A cardboard box.

My children anthropomorphize every object around the house, imbuing it with a personality, and then bonding with it like it's family.

I feel like I live in the "Brave Little Toaster" movie.  You know the movie - the old one from the 80's where the Toaster befriends a vacuum just as easily as the neighbor's cat and sets off on a journey - I don't know what for - perhaps to be rewired, or to find someone who'll dislodge the chunk of bagel that lays at the bottom of one of his baskets.  I can't remember.   But the point is, the movie stars a 'toaster' (I won't even dignify this ridiculousness by capitalizing the "t").  I remember watching the movie years ago and thinking, "this is really stupid.  No one is going to bond with a toaster or a vacuum.  Is Disney going to release plush toys with this?"

But apparently you can bond with a vacuum.  And a ball, and a stick...and an old pencil. 

Apparently, the key to giving "LIFE" to something stupid is to add a "y" to the end of the object's name.  It's like magic.   Alakazam!  You're alive!  You were a broom - but now you're "Broomy!"  "I GIVE YOU LIIIIIIFE!!!!"

This is not the same as the problem we had last summer when we were in Woodstock and we found a mouse living under our refrigerator.  As I was about to call in pest control, my son named it "Speedy" and suddenly it went from pest to "pet."  No, this is about wanting to clear away some clutter, the junk, the CRAP - and being unable to do so because one of my kids has named it! 

And once they name it, well, the kids "bond" with it.  It's "special."  Getting rid of it would be a personal afront.   I can't just toss the piece of pasta my daughter keeps on her bureau because it's mildly unique shape endeared it to one of my kids and it's now named "Curly."  Suddenly I have show a piece of fussilli the same respect I reserve for close friends and family.  I'm going over the edge.

And this is slowing down my cleaning process.

Isn't it enough that I keep almost all of their art projects, cards, scribbles, notes, paper snowflakes, and noodle necklaces just because they are convinced it's their most significant work "to date"?

Do I need old erasers, dried pasta pieces and rocks?

I try to put the skylight pole away in a closet and my daughter screams "Moooommmm!  That's Pollie!  I like him there.  I'll miss him.

Seriously?  It's a pole.

And now this crap is all over my house.  And I can't throw it away - because then I have to deal with their heartache and separation anxiety.  The pain that comes with being emotionally attached to something and losing it.  Where's Marble-y??  Where's Rocky?  Where's Forkey?

I need to draw a line.  And I would...but I'm afraid they'd name it.