When I first met the mother of my children I had the following possessions: A laptop, a TV, a duvet, a half-full suitcase, a toothbrush, 100 fish fingers and two full-length mirrors. That was it.
Those were the days.
Everything changed when I got kids. Every day more and more inanimate objects infiltrate my life. An avalanche of superheroes, Lego and annoying soft toys.
You have to fight back or the crap will take over your life. That's why I bought my boys iPads. Tidy black rectangles that take up no space but can be filled with virtual objects.
While my kids are playing Minecraft Pocket Edition, I've been sneaking into their rooms and filling rubbish bags with their beloved toys and books. The key is taking the stuff straight to the wheelie bin. Handing things down to cousins or donating them to charity shops slows the process.
Chuck first - and deal with the consequences later.
I believe as adults we owe it to ourselves to get rid of everything we like. If there's a picture on your wall that you love, take a photo, set it as your screensaver, then smash the original and throw it out.
If you see a beautiful non-functional object on sale, do not let it into your home. Over time it will worm its way into your soul, then rip out your heart when it has to go.
Why are we so nice to objects? Things don't have feelings. Books, newspaper clippings and old birthday cards don't care if they're in the rubbish. So why should you care where they are? How good does it really make you feel walking past these objects each day? Is it worth carting them from house to house? Cart them all to the dump once and free yourself of their pointlessness.
Why waste your love on things that don't have heartbeats? Instead of polishing, arranging and admiring objects, ring your mum.
Instead of gazing at a trophy you won when you were 11, break it in half, throw it in the trash and go for a beer with someone from the team. Instead of dusting around candles you never use, pick up your phone and attack a gold-rich village with your newly upgraded dragons.
On the rare occasion you really need to see old things go to a museum or an art gallery. There are people there who are paid to collect rubbish.
This is just my opinion. You may get a lot of enjoyment out of the things you own. You may want more and more special objects around you as you grow old. That's fine. Good for you. Just don't blame me when you end up eating runny fried eggs off a stinking pile of chicken cages.
