When you’re getting ready to move to a new home, things sometimes get weirder and weirder.

And with moving day quickly approaching, Noah and I are experiencing some strange dynamics already.

Like the big question of “who gets my stuff?”

Last time I moved, I took a big load of stuff to the Salvation Army. I didn’t ask anybody if they were okay with me doing it. I didn’t give anybody an opportunity to call dibs on it. I wanted the stuff gone, and I took it. End of story.

Or so I thought.

For weeks I heard person after person complain that I didn’t give them x and such out of my donation stash.

“I could have used that!”

“Next time think of others before you just go and do something like that!”

“Don’t you think you should have asked around first to see if anybody wanted any of that?!”

I got used to hearing all of these explanations and I also got real used to shrugging them off.

But this time around, when people found out I was moving, they approached me preemptively.

“See what your siblings need before you give it all away this time!” My mom said with all good intentions.

“I’d like a chance to go through all your Salvation Army stuff before you take it,” Noah’s mom said with all good intentions.

“Dude, if you give away your stuff without letting me have first dibs, I’m gonna kill you,” my sister said with unidentified intentions.

“I will beat you up if you pull a repeat of last time,” my friend said. I’m pretty sure she was serious.

Well…

Today I borrowed my mom’s truck (thanks Mom!) and loaded it sky high. Twice. With a lot of really nice stuff (I’m downsizing, remember?). There was everything from furniture, to kitchen gadgets/appliances, and even an iPod and a Kindle.

Then I took both those loads straight to the Salvation Army.

I didn’t ask anybody to come look through it. I didn’t offer anything to anybody. I didn’t heed a single person’s threat of death.

Why? I don’t know. Maybe because I’m oppositionally defiant by nature. Maybe because I’m a meanie-face poo poo pants.

Or maybe it’s because giving my stuff to my family and my friends doesn’t really serve the two people who I intend to serve by giving it all away. People in need. And myself.

If I donate it to the Salvation Army, financially strapped people both here and around the globe will get the hook up. People in real need will be able to buy some pretty decent stuff for a fraction of what they’d pay elsewhere. Hobos will no longer run the streets naked.

And, I get the tax write-off.

Seems like a real win-win. The only problem it’s sure to cause me is, this win-win doesn’t include all the people who for some reason think my stuff should belong to them if I don’t want it anymore or am not going to sell it.

Sorry everybody, it’s my stuff to do what I want with. And I want to give it to people who really need it. Though as a blogger, I totally get why you’d want a shot at it. Free stuff rocks.

Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing

PS. After reading this post, what do you think? Should friends and family members give first dibs to you before they donate their stuff to others?

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Dan Pearce is an American-born author, app developer, photographer, and artist. This blog, Single Dad Laughing, is what he's most known for, with more than 1.4 million daily subscribers as of 2017. Pearce writes mostly humorous and introspective works, as well as his musings which span from fatherhood, to dating, to life, to the people and dynamics of society. Single Dad Laughing is much more than a blog. It's an incredible community of people just being real and awesome together!