Kevin Page: Not sure I can cope with another spring clean, but this time there's a plan

I have agreed to work my wotsits off all day, come home and make her tea, then physically remove all the items she has decided can go in the latest purge, writes Kevin Page. Photo / Getty Images

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In our house I've reached the conclusion it's probably time for another spring clean. You'll note I said "another" rather than "annual". That's because the last annual spring clean just about did me in.

It's taken a couple of years to recover from the shock of Mrs P's last purge, which I foolishly allowed to extend to my domain, the garage.

Long-stored items that I had kept knowing full well I'd need – one day – were tossed in the trailer bound for the rubbish dump that day. I think a tear may have even been shed when the symbolic "bit of No.8 wire" I had had hanging up was plucked from its comfy nail on the wall and discarded like it never even existed. Oh, the humanity of it all.

And, as is always the case, within two weeks of the garage apocalypse wouldn't you know it, I needed a bit of wire. And a bit of wood just like that bit I'd been saving for 11 years, three months and two days - but who's counting.

Anyway.

The other day Mrs P and I are sitting, enjoying a bit of much-needed sun on the deck as the world rolls into August, and she decides it's time for me to make a nice cuppa.

And before you could say "hen pecked" I'm standing there in front of an open cupboard door trying to decide which cup to use.

It's a difficult choice. It seems like we have hundreds of them.

I remark on this when I return to the lady of the house. And that's when she decided it was time for another spring clean.

After the shiver had gone up my spine, through my brain and then back down my spine again, I managed to negotiate an arrangement that will see certain parts of our property off limits to certain individuals.

I'm quite pleased with the deal.

Effectively, Mrs P has agreed to stay clear of my garage and all and any items associated with it, such as my new "emergency wood" stack out the back, while I have agreed to work my wotsits off all day, come home and make her tea, then physically remove all the items she has decided can go in the latest purge.

I may have also said yes to giving her a daily footrub and calling her "Your Majesty" for a week. I'll have to check. Might be in the small print.

I know I have agreed to give her space in my garage as a sort of staging post for the items to be discarded, but there is method in my madness.

Let me explain.

I'm of the opinion there will be so much stuff coming out of the house it won't all fit in my garage.

That's when I'll pounce and request a new, bigger garage. See. As I said, method in the madness.

But I digress.

So, our spring clean/sort-out is under way. We've started in my office, which used to be a bedroom.

Basically, we've started there because she wants the big desk I made myself from scraps of timber gone.

I'll admit it won't win any prizes for visual or artistic appeal but for me it was a triumph of engineering, practicality and thriftiness. Anyhow, it's going. I'm even going to throw away the big, thick book on How to Build Tables, which lives under the short leg too.

After I'd manhandled the desk out to the garage – which wasn't actually too difficult a job as it turned out. It fell apart after I took the book out from under the short leg so I could carry it out in small pieces – Mrs P informed me the former office space would be put to good use when our new baby granddaughter Poppy comes to visit.

Accordingly, all the baby stuff we have been collecting and storing in the spare bedroom will now be shifted into the former office.

It struck me as a little odd our endeavours were not really resulting in there being much new space. Rather we were filling space with things we already had stored in other rooms. Moreover, these things we were filling it with were items we never used on a regular basis but kept on hand for emergencies like occasional visits of granddaughters.

My mind drifted back to my beloved coil of No.8 wire on the wall in my garage as Mrs P "explained" the reasons behind her thinking.

Here I should point out I didn't really tune in to the explanation. I just accepted it would be impossible to debate. Sort of like that one where you don't have a pot to pee in but your beloved goes and spends $50 at Briscoes on an item that has been reduced from $200.

You may have been there yourself. The end bit is you walking away shaking your head in puzzlement at how it's a good thing you saved $150 on something you weren't even planning to buy for $50 in the first place.

Anyway, I made myself scarce and went back to the kitchen to make another cuppa.

I tuned in just enough for the last bit of Mrs P's justification explanation, which mentioned it was a good idea to have a baby's room set up with all the gear at our place so "the girls" could all come round for a cuppa and see Poppy.

As I opened the cupboard to get a mug out one thing struck me.

At least when they do come visit, we will have more-than-enough cups.

• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to editor@northernadvocate.co.nz (Kevin Page in subject field).