“Jean, I’m a hoarder!”

That’s what my mother hit me with when she came for her typical visit.

“I can’t get rid of anything! And did you know 1 in 50; maybe even 1 in 20 people are hoarders? People in senior centers are hoarding like crazy!”

“Mom just because you’re living in an assisted living center doesn’t mean you’re a hoarder.”

“Hoarding is all we have to do at Friendly Arms!”

Hoarding seems to be the newest reality show obsession. There are real people who become so attached to their stuff that they can’t throw anything away, even if it’s garbage. These people often suffer from psychological problems. Come to think of it, my mother fits the description.

“Jean, Maury is a hoarder!”

“Mom what are you talking about?”

“All those gadget things he has. He has so many! Oh and what about your friends! The ones with all those fancy purses and shoes and clothes?”

My mom read in the paper that there have been several cases of hoarding in Scottsdale. There’s even a task force being put in place to help these people with their problem.

I roll my eyes as my mother wanders around the house mumbling to her self about how having cluttered living areas, non-discarded items, and a lot of stuff are the characteristics of hoarders. She’s counting my things, probably trying to figure out whether or not I’m a hoarder.

“Can you live with out this?” My mom calls from the other room.

No, probably not.