My Dad is a hoarder. Bad! He has stuff in unopened packages that he bought 20 years ago. He has 17 of the same tool because "I might need them some day." He has a 1,000 sqft detached shop and there isn't a space inside big enough for two people to walk past each other. If you confront him about the mess and the anxiety it causes my Mom, all you hear are the illogical ramblings of a madman. It's weird because he is "normal" in all other facets of life, but if you try to persuade him to reduce the amount of stuff he has, it's like trying to take a bottle away from a hard core drunk. Lies, threats, blame and rage.

Easy to see why I am the way I am, eh?