We’re coming to the end of 2005 and without much warning, the new year of 2006 is gonna knock on our doors and close to its tail comes the grand New Year of the Chinese Lunar Calendar. Although the Christmas season, New Year and CNY call for a time of celebration, merry-making and good wishes, it is a known tradition in my family that the spring clean is a big MUST before we all indulge in the above mentioned festive seasons.

I’m not sure to call it a compliment or a curse when I was brought up on the pedestal as the only person in the family blessed with the robust energy of a young bull, a springing spine which can sustain multiple bends without feeling strained or sprained and a talent in organizing and clearing clutter.

It is truly the curse of the century when the responsibility of our HOME SPRING CLEAN was gladly surrendered by the matriach of the house and fell onto my frail shoulders. Dad sat there nodding in agreement. This is the downside of being an only child. There’s absolutely no one I can use as a scapegoat. I can’t possibly shove this to the next living thing in the house - my pet dog, Bingo (who is a big mess herself). So, if anyone of you out there who by nature enjoys spring cleaning or feels sorry to see me in this pitiful state, please feel free to take my place!

Mom said, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you”.

Dad said, “Not much to clear anyway”.

After a full day of cleaning just the dining room and the front porch, I finally understand why our house grows smaller in space by the year. My parents are great junk collectors whose hearts ache to see things (good or bad) being sent to the rubbish dump.

The porch could have been more spacious if only Dad stopped adding to his collection of empty oil containers, wine bottles, broken rakes and spades, loads of empty cartons to store more broken gardening tools, chairs and stools with serious defects that if you sit on them u’d fall to the ground like a ripe durian. There are other funny items which he claimed useful for decoration purposes in his garden like spoilt plastic lanterns, old toy cars, fake plastic flowers, rusty metal pieces, old car license plates, chipped ceramics - you name it, he has it.

I really don’t mind him keeping all that if only he uses it. The fact is he doesn’t, and the collection grew from a hill to a mountain eating up space at the front porch and creating a paradise for roaches, spiders, lizards, mosquitoes and god-knows-what. Yet according to Mom (whom I believe has better creative talents than Dad), the garden looks so much better without Dad’s so called decorative efforts. I don’t mean to judge Dad, but I agree with her.

To cut the long story short, Mom and I carted his entire collection into the rubbish dump outside the house with such secrecy we looked like the Pink Panther in action. Since his memory is deteriorating these days, we believed he wouldn’t even remember that his junk was no longer where they’re supposed to be. True enough, he came out of the house for his walk that evening, glanced at the porch and didn’t even notice if anything was missing. His only comment was, “Nice weather, nice porch”.

When I complained that the cabinets in the dining room were full of unnecessary junk that could be either thrown away, sold or given off to the needy, I indirectly triggerred a squabble between Mom and Dad.

Mom: Can’t you throw away those files and folders of junk in that cabinet? Why are you still keeping those parking tickets, sale receipts and formal letters from Stone Age?

Me: True, Pa.

Dad: No way. What junk? They are important documents. You should be giving away a few of your tea sets, dining dishes, bowls, pots and pans that only see daylight once a few years… some never! And you keep on buying them. For heaven’s sake, there’s only 3 of us in this house.

Me: Exactly, Ma.

Mom: We can use them when the current ones are spoilt wot…

Dad: Oh really? You didn’t even want to throw away that chipped bowl and cups of yours. Dear, at least give them to the poor.

Me: Yeah, give them away la Ma.

Mom: Don’t you dare to touch my china. Better get rid of papa’s paper junk first. We’ve a huge colony of silverfish in that cabinet.

Dad: Told you they’re not junk!

Mom: Junk!

Me: ….

In the end, Dad’s files and folders stayed on in the same cabinet and Mom’s kitchenware reigned in hers for another year.

And the entire house remained crowded. On the positive side, the quarrel subsided and everybody is happy… until Mom suggested:

“Girl, we go shop for another cabinet tonight ok? Too much stuff around”

“Ok Ma, we should build another house too”.