Mr. Philately�s brother believes that there is too much junk in Mr. Philately�s mother�s house and garage. Mr. Philately�s brother would like to go into the house and garage and clean out all the junk. To take pressure off his brother, Mr. Philately is considering going up to his mother�s house this summer and clearing out the junk. When he told me this, I just laughed. Mr. Philately has never been able to recognize junk. When he�s done, everything will be re-arranged but everything will still be there.

The last time we moved, I sorted through my things and deciding what was junk and what should be kept. (Notice that I consider those two mutually exclusive categories.) I thought of a brochure on moving my parents once had. I quoted it because that brochure gave sage advice. �Junk in the old house,� I muttered. �Is junk in the new.� Mr. Philately agreed. �Yes, ma�am, junk in the old house is junk in the new.� Then he threw almost nothing out. Nothing he owns is junk. It all has value.

Worse, he started retrieving MY things from the trash. �You didn�t mean to throw these out, did you?� he would ask. �Yes, I did,� I would reply with all the firmness I could muster. �You�re going to want these some day,� he would say and rescue them. I took to throwing things into a plastic garbage bag while he was at work and hauling it over to the apartment dumpster. I�d throw Kat in the big stroller and haul that bag behind me. I trusted Mr. Philately not to dumpster-dive. Or at least I hoped he wouldn�t.

But that which does not kill us often makes us stronger. If the junk problem has not killed our marriage (who, after all, really needs to see what the dining room table looks like?), perhaps it can save our marriage. Until now, we�ve preserved our marriage by insisting that whoever walks out must take the children. Recently, it has dawned on us that we will need a new technique because it won�t be long before the children are out of the house. Perhaps the junk will do it.

After I finished laughing (at least outwardly) at the thought of Mr. Philately saving his mother�s house from the onslaught of junk, he proposed such a role for the junk in our house. After a few false starts, I think we have it. No, it won�t be that if he leaves I�ll get to keep his junk (or, more likely, toss his junk.) No, it won�t be that if he leaves it will take me a lifetime to toss all his junk out of my house. No, it won�t be that if I leave, I�ll have to separate his junk from my more valuable stuff.

If we need space, we�ll USE that junk. At the rate things are going, we won�t need a divorce, even if we have a major falling out. We�ll each take a bathroom, we�ll each take a room, and we�ll use the junk as a wall dividing the space. Heck, we�d never have to see each other again. Even better, we can use the junk to block the exits so neither of us can leave.

In any event, Mr. Philately may go visit his mother this summer. He may even go through her things with her. But his brother may not get anything at all out of the exercise because junk sorted by Mr. Philately is junk that�s staying put. And if I�m wrong, my brother-in-law will have to show me pictures to prove it. Even then, I probably won�t believe it. But I guess that�s okay. Because even if Mr. Philately at rare times considers me junk, I know for sure that he won�t toss me out.

LAST YEAR: Prison Liberation, Of Sorts

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Copyright 2006 by Ellen