Well my friends, you're not alone. In fact, all five people in my family have some hoarding tendencies*. I'm going to tell you their
In the order or weirdness:
You must admit, I'm the perfectly normal one. I collect notebooks. Notebooks are truly pacifying specimens. First there's the pretty cover that you can't help but stroke and gaze at. Opening the notebook, you'll see perfectly blank paper, and you can't help but imagine all the potential it carries. Now, close the notebook and turn it around. Look at the spine. If it's some cheap stapled line, RIP IT OPEN AND CHUCK IT ON THE WALL. That's not a notebook, that's just several pieces of folded paper reluctantly stuck together. This, is what a real notebook should look like:
|see? normal. (not.)|
Next up, my dear little brother. This hobby of collecting writing tools can be traced back to the innocent age of, er, 13? For the first time, he was given the freedom to spending his allowances. At first, he saved every dollar/penny/nickle/whatever the smallest value of currency is, knowing nothing about the luring world. This didn't last long.
See, there's this stationery shop near his school, and every time he rode a bike past it, he couldn't help but stop to take a look inside. You know what curiosity can do. Eventually, he was lured into the world of all kinds of pens and pencils. Starting from the cheapest ones, the fascination only grew. Mechanical pencils, ball pens, fountain pens, oh, the the wisdom of the human race! (okay, he hasn't gotten a fountain pen yet, but i'm sure he'll get his hands on one sooner or later.)
The following is my mother. She has a problem. Her outfits are never enough. Say she bought a pretty shirt, which she loved. But wait, there was no proper skirt to pair with that gorgeous new shirt! Unacceptable! After buying a lovely skirt, she found out that none of her shoes matched colours with that skirt. No way this could happen! And so, this goes on, and on, and on. And did I mention the random buys and the impulse buys and the emotional buys?
A problem that entails is the insufficiency of space, and the human nature to only love new, shiny things. An outfit can last about a month, after that, it's fired and will never see the light of day.
|tip of an iceberg.|
We're heading to second to the last! Now, enters my father. He's quite a frugal man--he hardly spends money on any sort of self-indulgence.
Except for one thing. The one thing he's so obsessed he doesn't even notice he's spending so much on it--vegetable.
Yes, you heard me right, vegetable.
This, too, started from a minor hobby. He's always loved gardening and growing vegetables of his own. One day, he discovered a farmers' market by chance. Not just a farmers' market, but a market for organic food. The appeal of organic is massive. Not only did he started replacing normal veggies with organic ones, he also started going to a course that taught how to organic (yes, it's a verb now.) It turned out, he could also rent a piece of land along with his fellow amateur farmers. On Saturday, he tends to his plantations on his little land. On Sunday, he goes to the organic farmers' market, and made quite a few friends there. As a result, our refrigerator is always full of vegetables. Not just your healthy 80% full, no, we're way past that. Every time there's finally some space for a breath, dad brought in more vegetables, some of which he bought, but most of which is free--either heartily gifted by his farmer friends or planted by his truly. Because, an empty fridge? How am I able to have a variety of vegetables in my disposal that way?
Oh, and my grandma grows loads of vegetables as well. Which means every time there's a harvest, she mails us a whole box of veggies. Nice.
|again, tip of an iceberg. i should show you the bag of okras next time my dad "harvests"|
Last, the most epic, the weirdest, the most mind-boggling: my big brother. You'll never guess this.
He hoards Pringle cans. Freaking Pringle cans. Like what even? WHAT FOR?!
I don't know what to say. Just look at the monstrosity. (not to mention, how did he managed to eat all that stuff?!)
So. My family.
*Might be exaggerated for comedic effects. Like my mom's outfits. She actually wears her older clothes, you know. And you can use those thin notebooks without legitimate spines. I won't kill you. I actually own some of those...
**With sarcasm and snark, of course