The Closet Clean Out

Earlier this week I arrived at Mom and Dad's house during a very rare occurrence. Mom had convinced Dad to go through his clothes and deem things worthy of keeping, tossing, or donating. For a person so inattentive to fashion trends, Dad sure has tons of clothes. The sheer volume of shorts he owns could clothe a small army of lawn care professionals. 

"Well these are my work shorts," he said, searching for the required hole, grass stain, or protruding clump of plaster that qualifies an article for the designated pile. "Are these too tight?"

Mom monitored things from just behind him. She offered her commentary as well as some disapproval, but overall she gave encouragement as the pile of throw away items grew ever larger. "How about these? You never wear them?"
"Those? I like those. They're my golf shorts."

"But you already have so many golf shorts."

"But these ones are blue!"

I sat in the corner as a giddy bystander. I love listening to them process the other's ideas. Dad can effortlessly dismiss Mom's thoughts, while Mom grants him no wiggle room.

"What's that pile? Throw away?"

"No, those need to be washed. Go wash 'em for me."

"Why do I always have to be the one to wash things."

"You like washing things."

"No I don't! It's just that you do it wrong. Hey wait, put that in the give away pile."

"I like that shirt!"

"It has a hole in it!"

"So?"

We made our way through shoes; 

"Should I keep these?"

"No."

"I'm going to keep them."

To suits and dinner jackets;

"Oh now this, this is a nice jacket. I'm keeping it."

"No, they're all nice jackets. You have to get rid of some. Look they're all the same color!"

"But this one is really nice. It's Jos A Bank!"

"Just one, get rid of one navy blue suit. Come on! You can do it!"

"That one is a little bit outdated," I added. Suddenly Dad paid attention.

"Really? Ok, well let's get rid of it. Oh wow, look at this one. Now this is a nice suit."

"It covered in stains."

"No it isn't."

"Dad, we can see the stains."

"Really? Ok. You can take it."

And finally to neckties;

"No no, I need my ties!"

"You have way too many! And you never wear them!"

"But what if I need them?"

"You think you'll need 50?"

"Listen, I wore a tie every day for years!"

"Well, lets just pick out a few you could let go of."

"No!"

"Come on Dad," I said, "Look at this one. It's pretty tacky."

"Yeah, I guess that is tacky... ok, you can take it."

"Great, now how about this one? Pretty bad huh?"

"Not that one. I love that one!"

"Oh Chris, it looks like a tie for casket viewing."

"It's my only green tie!"

The best part about the green tie was that I looped back around to it after he had gotten into the purging spirit. When he saw that tie, that precious green tie he just had to keep, he said, "Oh that tie is awful!" 

"That's the same tie as before."

"No it isn't. I wouldn't have tried to keep that one."

I witnessed this scene for a good half hour and the giant grin never left my face. Dad did a wonderful job letting go of clothing articles from 40 years ago and even relinquishing a few pairs of enormous shoes. Mom was elated. I was tickled. Dad moved on to his next task as though nothing monumental, endearing, or interesting had happened at all. 

I could watch them all day.