The other day I walking in to my living room and I see my dad glued to the TV. I stopped to look and see what he was watching and it was Hoarders. I hate that show so much because my dad is a hoarder and it drives me nuts. He was watching it too see all of the stuff they through away and got mad if he liked what they threw away. He is the best example of a hoarder.

I have no problem with having a lot of stuff but when barley anything works there is no point of having it. That describes my house a, lot of junk.  I swear when my dad is not around, I through all sorts of stuff away or junk it. When he comes back he automatically knows when stuff is gone it’s like a burning sensation in the back of his neck and hell search around till he finds it in the trash or gives up And gets mad.

I keep the inside of the house clean from all his clutter but the yard, porch, and our house sized shed are a complete different story. He’ll go around all the neighborhoods knowing the trash days for everywhere he is and he’ll go garbage picking. I remember a few times when I was little he would hold my ankles and have me in dumpsters at flea markets going through stuff. I love my childhood memories.