Living with a Barb

Well, it’s been a month or so since I’ve written and I’m being baaaaad again.

I should tell you about Barb, the woman I live with. Just picture, a 69 year old woman, with no teeth, who walks really slow, has a dog that can’t hold it’s bladder and screeches out, “Dominique! Dominique!”

Yah, that’s her, but that’s not all of her. I should have added that she is a packrat. Now, I’ve seen packrats before. I used to play with this grrrl named Ola when I lived in Logan Square. Her next door neighbor was a PACKRAT. So much stuff in that house-it was awful. I don’t know how we got through the house, but for us, as little grrrls it was fun. You could hide in all the stuff. She really liked the home shopping channel and just kept ordering.

Barb is not like her. She’s a different kind of packrat. She keeps trash. For example, she has old newspapers from 1998. She has words cut out from magazines. She has pringle tops. She has old cereal boxes. Why does she need this, you might ask. Because, everything can be used. But, will it? I think not.

My best example is the old prostate cancer brochure that i found. I asked, “Barb, now why, why, do you need this? You’re NEVER going to get prostate cancer” She answered very matter of factly, “I live alone, I’ll read it!” The problem is that she’s got stuff in here that she’s had for 12 years and she hasn’t read it! So, I just don’t believe it! I asked her why she just doesn’t go to a library. Well, HOW WILL I GET THERE? Barb you have 7 kids and like 40 grandkids all older than me. SOMEONE could drive you.

It’s sad, really.

But the best was Sunday. What led up to Sunday was my friends Nick and Gary doing a roadtrip from Chicago to Omaha. Friday night they got here and we threw all of Barb’s papers into bags and made SEVERAL trips up and down the stairs to the second floor, where most of the crap is held. I’s just bedrooms and a hallway filled top to bottom with CRAP.

So Sunday, when Nick, Gary and I got back to the house, I hear the screech, “Dominique! Dominique!” She asks what that “vomit” is in the basement and why it smells so awful.I say I don’t know. I go down to check it out. Looks like her pipe has back up and her garbage disposal spewed out a whole bunch of crap!

Oi vei! So, Nick, Gary and I cleaned the mess. Thank God they were there because they were making me laugh so hard (and coughed a lot from all the tilex and other various chemicals that we were using on her sewage leakage).

Anyway, so we did that and then she wanted me to get them to move a bed from one bedroom to another in that upstairs where everything is covered in crap. To do that, we would have had to move everything. That would have taken a YEAR. (well, not for me, i would have thrown EVERYTHING out in a day!)

I actually tried to do that and told her I would, but she started picking through the trash I put out and she even asked me to bring it back upstairs.
Ah, guess you can’t help some people and their fire hazards.

But, still, I am glad I’m helping her. This brings good stories.

I’ll leave with this thought: I had to cut Barb’s toe nails today.