MyThreeDaughters

Back when I was growing up, I remember there for a while my parents asking other adults whether they had a junk drawer. I think both asker and answerer always felt better to know that the other people were junky enough to have a whole drawer.
Flash forward, and American culture has coursened. We don’t have a junk drawer, we have “crap bowls.” We had one and it got filled with old batteries, glue sticks, valuable pieces of paper, a baby monitor, maps, key chains, keys that aren’t on chains and we don’t know what they open.
Then we got another crap bowl, and that got filled with paper objects, like surveys that we intend to fill out some day, and flyers for programs we’d like to attend, a torn piece of paper with a baby sitter’s phone number on it.
Then some other things piled up, in piles, on our kitchen counters and island, and wife got a plastic yellow bin to put all that crap in so she can go through it some day when she has time.
I predict it’ll be “some day” in 2025.
I was explaining all this to a friend, while he was over one night watching basketball and both of us were complaining about crap and neither doing anything about it.
He said he and his wife got tired of the crap piles on their kitchen island. They got a table, to trap all the stuff as it came into the house, to prevent it from crapping up their island.
Now they have junk piled onto a table by the front door and piled on their counters.
I blame it all on flat surfaces.
Maybe on every flat surface in the house, we could install pigeon spikes.