I’ve mentioned our next door neighbor Mike before. He owns a really awesome vintage store in Lower Haight and is always going to estate sales in search of awesome wares to sell. Somehow, early on, we became the recipients of all of his castoffs. Anything he didn’t think he could sell or didn’t want to take the time to fix up.

Sometimes this is a great arrangement - we’ve gotten awesome posters, neat trinkets, and some generally cool stuff that we’ve added to our home - but occasionally he leaves CRAZY stuff. Ugly stuff.  “Please don’t bring that in our house” stuff.

Brent wants it all. I joke with him that if it wasn’t for me - we’d wind up on one of those hoarder television shows in a few years. Usually we just sneak the bad “gifts” into the trash or put it out on the street corner for someone else to take home.

Yesterday - a giant treasure troll was left on our door step. Brent brought it inside while I was on a conference call for work and put it in front of me. It took every ounce of self control I had not to scream.  It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.

I hit the mute button on the phone and said “GET THAT OUT OF OUR HOUSE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE” with tears welling in my eyes.

After my call I asked him what he had done with it, but all he would do is laugh and say… “oh, he’s gone. He’s no longer in the house”. It wasn’t until later when I opened the blinds did I find his creepy little face waiting for me again. “EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeKKKKKKKKKKkkkkk! No no no no” I shouted, covering my eyes and running from the room.

“But it’s from 1967!” Brent yelled behind me “Look it up on ebay - I bet we could sell this thing”

I don’t care if it’s worth thousands - that creepy troll has got to go. I had nightmares about this thing last night.  So scary. If my husband knows what’s good for him - it BETTER be in the trashcan. (please please let it be in the trashcan, with the lid closed, preferably with two bags of trash stacked on top of it)

M