Home is Where the Hugo Is

Someone’s trash is another person’s excuse to add to the giant hoarding heap.

Lordy rat’s nest, do I have a load of crap in my house.

When you are trying to sell your house, it is considered wise to unclutter it, to make the path through the living room 6-inches wide instead of the current 3. It is prudent to not have the mold-covered boxes reach the ceiling when shoulder-level is more appropriate, and the collection of pigeon droppings in the corners is a big no-no.

I am not a hoarder. I am a thrower. I like to throw items away, and contribute to the eventual demise of our species when we are all swallowed up by the giant ocean garbage patches.

My husband is less of a thrower. He walks a thin line between saver and hoarder.

When my parents moved two years ago, my mother bestowed upon me all my childhood things she had been storing for all these years.

I received a garbage bag filled with Barbie doll heads; the hair shorn, the heads painted with nail polish. Ooh! I was looking for these! What a find. I immediately set them up on my mantlepiece and was promptly arrested for being a serial killer.

Or maybe I said “Why in the world did you save these?”

I am trying to avoid a similar situation of handing my son a bag of broken crayons and used pacifiers upon his departure from the nest so I have been throwing many thing away under the guise of “Oh, these are for the garage sale.”

There will never be a garage sale.

And my saver husband has been going along with it rather well.

There’s only been one slight glitch.

This apparently is moving into our new house with us:

Yes. His eyes are following you. You are not imagining it.

His name is Hugo. He is the man of a thousand faces, and was a puppet who haunted my waking hours as a child. My husband saved him from the stash of childhood things.

You used to be able to put mustaches and wigs on him or you used to be able to cower in his presence and beg your older brother to remove the mini-lifelike man from your sight. Fun for the whole family.

He currently lives in the basement because if he were anywhere in our living space, I would feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. He has not been placed in the garage sale box, but in the keep-in-the-storage-space box.

Look, he has hands:

The better to strangle you with while you sleep.

I guess I should be content with the idea of him moving into the storage space. At least he will be out of the house and stop whispering to me when no one else is around.

I have tried to move him to garage sale boxes, but he always manages to escape.


Hugo the man with a foot fetish.

I’m thinking he will make a fantastic college graduation present for my son. Fun for the whole family.


  1. I will buy your house if you throw in Hugo. He has handsome eyes and after conversing with him on eHarmony, I feel he know my hopes and dreams better than my own family.

    Thanks for this post. I’m now fully on board with never, ever moving.

  2. Ohh, I am going to have nightmares tonight. Can’t you just put him in with the Barbie heads and let him satisfy his need to feast of feminine beauties?

    Seriously creepy.

  3. The only thing creepier than Hugo sitting in the basement would be Hugo sitting in the basement surrounded by the Barbie heads.

      1. Yes, Herb was a “party” person. I think if he was a strangler he would have been “lost” sooner. 😉

  4. Hugo could give La Jolie a run for her money on the posts centered on her world travels. Hugo could put your kids through college. Hugo could be the best thing that ever happened to you. Or, he could eat your brain when you are sleeping. These things can go either way.

    1. Both things sound good. My son goes to college is good. Me being unaware of everything because Hugo eats my brain ain’t too shabby either.

  5. Hugo is mucho creepy.

    By the way, my brother-in-law is an artist, and often takes stuff “in trade” for some of his work. He loves making a deal. So my sister opened a bag in the cellar one day and it was full of Barbie arms and legs. You two should get together.

  6. I must say that’s creepier than Angie’s talking Teddy Ruxpin. I’d take him out back, salt him, and burn him. Hurry. Skip the boxing part.

    1. I work in an elementary school so I think I should place him somewhere in the cafeteria. Maybe the bin of potato flakes being passed off as mashed potatoes?

  7. Hey! My parents did the same damn thing to me recently! Now the room that we were planning on turning into a play room for the baby is all full of my high school notebooks and piles of sticky, thirty-year-old Fisher Price toys. The dismembered Cabbage Patch head is in our guest room, though. Seems like the best place for it.

    1. I’m thankful to hear I am not the only one who dismembered toys.

      That old Fisher Price stuff is the bomb. Seriously. The new stuff is crap. I’ve bought all the ole Fisher Price stuff on eBay for my son, and he digs it. People will shell out a crapload for your stuff.

  8. Do you remember the movie Magic? Hugo reminds me of that horrid movie. Nightmares pending, for certain. I need to focus more on the fact that he reminds me of Yule Brenner (King and I). Yes, Yule would not hurt me. I’m OK. I’ll be OK.

    1. Hugo kind of looks like the actor who plays Joffrey in Game of Thrones except without the blond hair. If you don’t know the show, Joffrey is the evilest character. He makes the puppet in Magic seem like Yule Brenner.

  9. holy cow, you’re movin’! i just did and i’ll tell you it is SUCK-ASS. but, it’ll be great once you’re there. i hope you’re going someplace good. that doll terrifies the spinal fluid right out of me. so, now i am paralyzed. thank you, 7. she-sus. okay, not really. the only childhood thing i was annoyed with was when my mother threw out my ‘jeffrey the giraffe.’ i came home from school to find his giraffe head sticking out of the garbage can and i was so pissed. It was as if i had witnessed my mom peeing on a tiny lamb. anyway, we took jeffrey out of the trash and i don’t know where the feck he is now. sigh. memories. xoxo, sm

    1. Moving is the pitz. We have a purchase offer in on a house, but so much can go wrong and likely will, and I expect I will soon be living out of our storage space and likely sold off to some redneck on Storage Wars. Here’s hoping. Because that is better than moving.

  10. Ooh. Hugo is so awesomely creepy. I sense he will not help sell your house, though, and may in fact go after prospective buyers.

    My husband and I once found this icky rabbit’s foot, and we kept hiding it in places for the other to find. The worst was when he put it in my coffee cup. The best part of waking up, is…AHHH&$&&*%$!!

    1. I fear the very same thing. A nice young couple stands in the living room envisioning what they will put in the space when suddenly Hugo leaps off a book shelf and begins staring at them in that creepy way he has. That would be a bummer.

  11. Hugo is like half Howie Mandell and half Half A Man that I just saw on TLC last night after The 250 Pound Tumor (TV at it’s finest).

    1. I think what you’re saying is Hugo should have his own reality show, which will eventually lead him to replacing Howie Mandel on America’s Not Got A Lot of Talent.

  12. When I scrolled to the first photo of Hugo, I pee’d a little. I have never given live birth, and have no issues with bladder control or pelvic muscle tension. He is just that creepy. I had been going to go to bed soon, and now I am wide awake, and slightly pukey feeling.

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