Bag Lady...

From Beer To Paternity Towers has recently undergone some decorating and tidying up and this means the missus has had to clear some of her old shit out of the house. And, horror of horrors, this means she has had to rationalise her bag tree.

For the uninitiated the bag tree is a many-branched old coat stand that houses her myriad collection of shoulder bags, handbags and other-use bags (her term not mine). Before she set about rationalising this bizarre item I counted how many bags it was providing refuge for and the number was 46. I have seen department stores with fewer.

She did, however, send several for recycling and seemingly threw many more out and it suddenly became less of an obstacle to pass on the stairs. For about a week...

But then I noticed bags started turning up in other places (such as on the back of doors and on coat hooks elsewhere in the house). Take the episode of Star Trek with the Tribbles and turn the madly breeding little furball creatures into handbags and you have the right idea of what seemed to be happening in the house.

Myself and the boy are close to drowning in bags.

Fortunately help may be at hand as she has now bought two very expensive new bags so her need to fill up the house with cheaper versions may have been abated for a while.

Or it may just have reached an expensive new stage and me and the boy will soon be out on the street as our places are taken up by her two new chums from Mulberry…