The first stop on our tour is the LIVING ROOM. In the corner of the LIVING ROOM, between the seforim shrank and the ottoman, you will find a pile of blankets and a scooter. This area is referred to as The Hoarder’s SET. We are under strict orders from The Hoarder not to move an item from THE SET while he sleeps at night, and I have learned the hard way that I must oblige.

Hanging from the handlebars of this scooter are two shopping bags, slowly losing the battle between their contents and the forces of gravity. What’s inside these bags, you might wonder? The stick of a lollipop, a broken bubble gun, Feivish socks, an umbrella, a deflated ball he found outside, some assorted magna-tiles, and an adorable camel he made for parshas Chayei Sarah. Last year.

Our tour now moves to the DINING ROOM, where The Hoarder’s Succos projects are on display on the buffet. Next are last year’s Shavuos projects, his Purim grogger, and quick — let’s speed past the place where his oil jug from Chanukah once stood before The Hoarder can notice its disappearance.

Onward! We enter the PLAYROOM. Now, as its name suggests, a playroom ought to be used for playing, right? Unfortunately, not in this house. The PLAYROOM is a temporary station of SETS, in which any number of cardboard boxes and broken toys, Mitzvah Kinder, and costumes can be stationed in little piles throughout the room. What is the purpose of these SETS? Sigh.

We shall now mosey on upstairs, to the MASTER BEDROOM CLOSET. This is a sad room. It is the graveyard of SETS and treasures and projects that have been confiscated for various reasons, all very similar — the item was used as a weapon against a member of The Hoarder’s immediate family. For some reason, this room is the site of many burglaries, with the stolen items mysteriously reappearing in various SETS throughout the house.

The final stop of our tour is THE HOARDER’S BEDROOM, otherwise known as THE GEMACH. Now, you might ask, dear reader, why a child’s bedroom is referred to as a gemach, and I shall explain to the best of my ability. My son’s morah gave him a wonderful book called Because of a Smile, in which one boy smiles at another and sets off a chain reaction of kindness. One minor plot point features a man who decides to create a toy gemach for children, and that is the part of the book my son fixated on. A gemach! With toys! What fun!

And so, THE GEMACH is where he keeps his most beloved treasures, carefully displayed on every spare surface throughout the room. There are semi-inflated birthday balloons, baby toys that strongly resemble his little brother’s toys, 17 books in various states of decay, eight stuffed animals, TGC stickers that he mooched off a neighbor, his alef-beis siyum crown, a rock he found outside, and half his school projects from this year and last. Every now and then, my son invites his friends over to THE GEMACH and permits them to look at the items. Occasionally, he even allows them to touch some of them. He is a generous Hoarder, my son.

Raising The Hoarder has given me a newfound appreciation for our cleaning lady. Because when an item is reaching the end of its hoarded lifetime, I know that I can send it off to the garbage, secure in the knowledge that sweet Jacqueline will take the fall for it. And she does. The Hoarder detests Jacqueline and tells me repeatedly to make sure she doesn’t ruin his SETS. To this, I respond that I will do my best, but unfortunately Jacqueline only speaks Spanish, no comprende, señor.

I don’t know what the disappearance of his treasures is doing to his trust in parents and object permanence, and sometimes I worry. I’m trying to find a balance between allowing him to self-actualize through hoarding and getting a glimpse of my floors. It is hard, dear reader — very hard. I am open to suggestions and tips.

Until then, you can find me in the dead of the night, pilfering through THE GEMACH while the Hoarder sleeps peacefully, dreaming of mountains of SETS.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 966)