Dining Room of a Hoarder

Our pristine, prissy, upscale dining room was almost never used. And now it can’t be used for eating, for it is slightly junked and abused. Dining room table is so long, it started to almost immediately collect.... So many items, that who has inclination or time to carefully inspect? At first it was just an art project, or a button or two, But then it was stacks of magazines, and material red, white and blue. Our junk drawer became two, and three, and four. And now we just put a few things in boxes stacked on the floor. Yesterday I found Great Auntie Leigh’s French powder puff. My sister discovered her Christmas stockings and holiday ****. There are boxes in here that were not here this summer. We do not eat here anymore, probably can’t now. What a bummer. We have a path to the table, but not to the fancy schmancy chairs. I am slamming the door before my husband comes down the stairs. He has the illusion this place is tidy and clean, waiting for company. I am afraid if he saw it he would suggest dusting or cleaning to me. I jump from the chair, and fall flat on my sad little hands. Discover six inch ball made of six thousand and two rubber bands. Well, that is where you are! My husband says, poking in his nose. He hops over some chairs and grabs up a cornet, taking some blows. Your junk is in here too! I say, accusing him, trying to have a fit. The dining room has never been used this much. This I have to admit. We can never eat in here again, he says plunking down a box. What is he trying to get away with now? That conniving old fox!