Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Hand-me-down inventory

My mother is the high-end PR rep money can’t buy.

Three months before my closing date
she calls a press conference with
friends, family, her fitness classes,
schmoozes phone numbers from friends of friends
for complete strangers who are downsizing,
cleans out old estates,
fills up the back of her schoolbus
with headboards and dining chairs.

Now her living room is a children’s castle
of cardboard boxes labeled: 
       Crystal and wine goblets
                       Pots and pans
           Casserole dishes
               Cutlery and blender
 Teacups and coffee mugs

We sit perched on beautiful, wobbly 1930s chairs
slicing open box after box,
unwrapping and rewrapping
The Toronto Star from each item.
When we find the gold wine goblets
with strange symbols carved on them
we simultaneously burst into singing
operatic random Latin words
       (Rect-oooos! Dom-ee-noooos!)
laugh nervously and
try not to think about The Omen.

We yay and nay,
deciding fates like
beauty contest judges.

Glass rolling pin: keep
Mouse-chewed cookbooks: garbage
50th anniversary mugs: donate
Mini-muffin trays: keep


Mona said...

sounds like u have a great family. I like your poem, reminds me of a song.

Dorkmaster Flek said...

I like getting free stuff for our house. :)

Mary said...


Um I hope the weird gold goblet was a definite KEEP. Kinda reminds me of Indiana Jones...

Dude I seriously can't wait until you move in. I want to see it so badly :)

Adelaide said...

Hell NO! Those goblets are fucking CREEPY! We're giving them to Uncle Larry to sell at the Flea Market, but you can have them instead if you want.

Alexander James said...

Part one: your mom is awesome. Sounds like what my mother has endeavoured to do for me every time I've moved -- and we're talking apartment hopping, not an actual Grown Up House. God help me if that day ever comes.

Part two: The latin thing made me laugh. The first thing I would have thought of would more likely have been the monk bit from Holy Grail, just because it's less creepy.

Where is your new house, and when do you move in? We have to arrange coffee or something at some point; I feel like I'm catching up with your life's events through three degrees of writing separation. ;)

Mary said...

Haha no it's okay I don't want them... To Uncle Larry they shall go.