Conversations with my Mother, Preparing to Put House on Market Version

I've come to realize that my parents have what I like to call parenting schizophrenia, the unique ability to vacillate between being convinced that a) We're overworked, overburdened and exhausted, and b) We're lazy.

Usually it amuses me, particularly when they come up to help the overworked, overburdened child, despite said child's protests that it isn't necessary for her septugenarian parents to whirl into town, whip themselves into a frenzy of yard and housework, and then collapse on the sofa, crippled and drained of all energy.  Not that I don't appreciate the help, but part of the schizophrenia is their insistence that I have too much stuff, combined with their resistance to my actually getting RID of said stuff.  And so we have conversations like this one:

Mom:  I cleaned all those coffee mugs out of the cabinet - do you want to put them in storage?

Me:  Nope.  We'll just give them to Goodwill. 

Mom:  Are you sure?

Me:  Did you see how many mugs there were?  Did you notice that I can still serve coffee to 16 people at a time, even with the mugs gone?  I don't feel like toting them around - maybe someone else can use them.

Mom: (goes and gets box of mugs, pulls one out and shows it to me)  What about this Christmas mug?

Me:  Nope.

Mom:  (methodically unpacks each mug that she had previously methodically packed and shows them to me - all 2 boxes worth) This Halloween mug?

Me:  Nuh-uh.

Mom:  Stonehenge?

Me:  No.

Mom:  Star Trek?

Me:  No.

Mom:  This one?

Me:  Mom.  No.  I do not need them.  I do not use them.  They have been in that cabinet for a decade, and I no longer wish to be burdened with their presence!

Mom:  Your Maw-maw gave you this one!

Me:  When I was twelve.  Yes.  And while I appreciate that, I am not attached to a coffee mug with a unicorn on it.

Mom:  This one's cute.

Dad: (piping up from the recliner) Do NOT bring that stuff into our house and clutter up the place!

Mom:  But I could drop the rest by Goodwill.

Dad:  You always say that, and then it just sits in the garage.  You don't need a mug.

Me:  There's a Goodwill right down the road; we'll take the stuff there.

The Boy:  I want to go there now!

Me:  It's 8:00 p.m.  They're closed.

Mom:  (looks sceptical about my ability to take boxes to Goodwill)  Well, okay.  (Sets mug she thinks is cute beside her purse)

Dad: (sighs and grumbles about shoulder injury he received while overdoing it in the backyard, despite being told not to by his daughter.)

Me:  (sighs) Look.  Can we all just sit here and chill?

Mom:  (rolls eyes at her shiftless, feckless child who should totally be working around the house until at least 10 p.m.!) But there's so much to do!

Me:  And you don't have to do it!

Blessed Moment of Silence, and Then:

Mom:  So what about that Christmas china you wanted to get rid of?