I called Zippy and his wife tonight to see how they were doing. Zippy was putting the kids to sleep, but his wife CornHusk and I got to catch up. Why CornHusk? She’s from Iowa. Duh.

When Zippy came out of the room there was some mumbling in the background. Then, the following.

CornHusk: You spent 3 hours with Zippy’s Mom yesterday?
Me: Well, yeah. He was like our Dad too. I feel awful for her.
Zippy: Your stock went up with her today. She’s been talking about you all day.
Me: Aww. Well, I found her some support groups. I’m sending Gloom and Doom over with that info tomorrow because I’m heading back to the shithole.
CornHusk: Are you really moving back here? When I saw your face at the viewing I just realized how much I miss you.
Me: Yeah, that is the plan. I hate it there. X is on board too, so we’re working hard on coming back. Just need a job. Well, one of us does.
CornHusk: You know what job I thought of for you? You should be a blogger! You would do a great job making fun of all these bitchy snotty Connecticut women.
Me: Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve been writing that stupid dating / relationship blog for over 5 years now…
Zippy: [inaudible in the background]
CornHusk: OH YEAH! We were playing the “who hooked up with the most people at the viewing” game the other night! I forgot about you and TheCop! That might put you in the lead.
Me: That’s the game you were playing at your Father’s Viewing? Damn.  This is why I had to move out of here to begin with. I hooked up with too many guys. Ran low on inventory.
CornHusk: Would you live with your mom and dad while you looked for a place?
Me: Oh. My. God. No. Do you want me to get divorced? No way. Besides, this entire house is worthy of a whole season of Hoarders. This morning I picked up a stack of papers that was sitting on the last available space of furniture and said, ‘What is this crap? It looks like garbage.’ They all denied it was theirs and I started looking at it. Tickets to the Louvre from 1999, labels off wine bottles I guess they liked, maps of Paris from 1995. I started ripping it all up. When no one claimed it, I shredded it and threw it out. You have to shred it or it gets rescued from the trash.
CornHusk: Good for you! We’re OCD over here, so that doesn’t happen!
Me: Yeah, I keep a pretty lean inventory of junk, but even this visit makes me want to go back home and throw out 10 more bags of stuff!

The short answer is, yes, they are back to Gloom and Doom. In fact, as I sit here writing this, I can hear them bickering in their room as they prepare for bed. Damn. It’s always something.

CornHusk: Don’t you hope that we never get like that?
Me: I do, and I hope it’s not so ingrained in my genes that it manifests itself down the road.

Shudder. Does anyone have the number to the producers for Hoarders?