The Excavation Continues

Have you ever wondered what your junk drawer says about your family? Oh, come on, you know you've imagined your biographers coming through your house and telling your adoring public all about how you lived your life, right down to the contents of your junk drawer! You do that, too, right? And people applaud?

[Yeah, well, clearly I have a lot of time on my hands.]

Anyway, today, dear readers, we examine the contents of the... COOPER JUNK DRAWER. What secrets lie within its crowded, cluttered contents? [My biographers always love alliteration.]

[Listen, you populate the voices in your head with whomever YOU want and I'll populate the voices in my head with whomever I want. Deal?]

Before we examine the contents of the COOPER JUNK DRAWER, perhaps we should specify that this one is the Officially Designated Junk Drawer. It does seem to resemble many of the drawers in the Cooper household, no doubt for some incredibly well thought-out reason.

It's not a very big drawer.

And yet, through some miracle of planning and persistence, it contained ALL of this inside of it:

What does this say about the Coopers, do we think? Let's go further in depth.

It appears that the Coopers are inordinately concerned about their hair.

The Coopers appear to have severely dry lips.

And to be concerned about halitosis.
Does this enormous stash of chewing gum in the junk drawer indicate that the occupants in the house sometimes grab a piece of gum on their way out the door instead of brushing their teeth? Why are a few of the pieces practically petrified? The mystery only deepens...

The Coopers appear to have some issues with keeping their papers organized and bound.

Note that we see binder clips, paper clips, staples AND a staple puller but no, I repeat NO, stapler. What does this mean? Was there a problem with the stapler? Or did a small child escape with the stapler, carrying it to the recesses of her room from whence it was never recovered? [My biographers love words like "whence."]

The Coopers appear to be concerned about their hearing. Is there a logical reason the ear plugs are kept inside the kitchen drawer? Is there ever screaming at meal time in the Cooper House? We want to know.

So, far, other than an abnormal obsession with personal hygiene (look at the two sets of clippers and variety of tweezers in this next photo) the Coopers seem like a fairly normal family.

But now things take a turn for the sinister. WHAT is with all of those screws? Can one safely say that the Coopers have more than one screw loose? [Hey, you biographers! Knock off with the puns, okay? And a little respect--is that too much to ask?]

And DUDE, how is it possible to have this many keys?

And buttons.

And outlet covers

And adhesives.

And boxtops?

And honestly, what's the deal with this home-made temporary tattoo? Would someone put that on a CHILD? I think this was for an adult --and what mature, self-respecting adult would wear a temporary tattoo?

I'll tell you, in my esteemed opinion as a biographer of thousands, what this drawer reveals about the Coopers: It reveals that they're CRAZY and not only that but that are P-I-G-...

[And this concludes the final episode of the Cooper UNauthorized Biography Series, brought to you by the unruly voices in Barb's head. She will now take her regularly scheduled medication and return you to your own well-ordered and temporary tattoo-less existances.]

[Last time I play THAT game...]


Lynn said…
What a wonderfully-organized post about your formerly-disorganized junk drawer!

We are temporarily without a junk drawer, as I've intentionally only partially unpacked from September's move and am contemplating another come June. So it would not be out of line to suggest that the entire apartment is serving as a junk drawer. No, I am not going to post pictures on my blog, you'll just have to use your imagination!

What sort of self-respecting adult wears a temporary tattoo? *This* one, October 1996, when I was earning my AAS in Interpreting for the Deaf and working part time at a movie theatre, and we got to wear costumes to work on Halloween, and I came as a biker chick and put a Harley tattoo smack dab below my collarbone.

Just your basic LDS mother of five, born to raise heck. That would be me.
DK said…
Team Hangover? Can I be part of that team?

Oh, and ps, Lynn - glad I'm not the only one who refuses to unpack until I'm sure I'm not moving again this summer. And "born to raise heck" made me giggle.
Um, I think they got into my junk drawer by mistake...
MadMad said…
That's the wonderful thing about blogging - even the worst chores can be turned into amusing fodder!
Barb Matijevich said…
DK is in my brain. Lynn, I giggled at your whole comment!

The tattoo was for the first official ride my husband did with his group of riders, who always referred to themselves as "Team Hangover" because they rode on Sunday mornings. One of the guys came up with the design and I ran them off as temporary tattoos and all the guys wore them for the Lance Armstrong Ride for the Roses.

I'm ashamed to tell you that I thought this was just so... CUTE!
Unknown said…
I love your biographers. They are too cute!

It looks a lot like my junk drawer, sans the hair thingies, plus some dinosaurs...and rocks. We have rocks in every stinkin' corner of this house. But the box tops, buttons, paper clips....all very like my house.

(My biographers are related to Sondheim...they are always breaking into song).
Mrs.Q said…
Ummm...those earplugs might be ours. Mr.Q goes through so many it's utterly mindboggling. They're always turning up in the oddest places, often where you'd least expect them. It's entirely possible that some have migrated south for the winter. My apologies. And Mr.Q's. He promises to be better about checking his pockets after work.

(Oh, yeah, and that "Team Hangover" temp. tattoo? If I was hungover enough to join the team, chances are it was applied AFTER the wine, and BEFORE the hangover. Just saying.)
Anonymous said…
Where's the allen wrench that goes in the mysterious little hole in the door incase someone gets locked in the bathroom. Betch didn't know what it was and threw it away.
Barb Matijevich said…
Au Contraire, I actually (in some fit of hyper-organization that has never been repeated) put one of those magnetic knife thingies up in my utility room and keep all manner of tiny screw drivers and allen wrenches on that. I know, I know--but I can't send you a picture of it because you didn't sign your comment. (Not that I'm bitter.)

But you know, I don't use those for kids who lock themselves in the bathroom. I use a KNITTING NEEDLE to get them out. Because I'm very talented that way.
Lynn said…
I'm impressed!! That's a lot of stuff for one drawer!

I always fear that if something ever happened to me and my family, there'd be so much dna evidence that CSI wouldn't know where to start.

And if you are cold NOW, wait until you move to LI!
Emily Cole said…
I love this post! I have *several* junk drawers I should go through... I don't think the contents will make it to my blog though... or - you could have just started a whole new 'tag-your-it' sort of blog game! Now you just have to 'tag' people! Great post really! em
Patti said…
Your junk drawer curiously resembles mine. My blog is about going through my junk drawer and posting about the stuff in it. Drop over sometime!
LaDonna said…
You know, if we combined all the box tops in our collective junk drawers, we could probably get some school out there some real kick-butt playground equipment! :)