“What on earth is this?” asks Mittens as he pulls a skateboard out of the closet.

I stashed a lot of childhood toys there when I first moved here, and never bothered to clean it out.

“Actually, I know what this is. But why do I have one in my closet?” he amends.

He shakes his head and stashes it in the giant trash bag he brought with him. Similar items go in next, and I feel sad at all that nostalgia lost.

“I can’t imagine what made me keep these.” he says, not looking at me but clearly addressing me.

I guess cats can’t understand nostalgia, huh. I never looked through the closet, but I would have eventually.

Definitely eventually.

“What…” he says, holding up a bag of loose toy wheels.

Now that brings back memories! I would pry the wheels off my toy cars and put them in a bag. I was such a weird kid.

Mittens heads over to the computer.

I jump on the table in time to see his search results, travel advice, how to store tires correctly… nothing about why someone would store wheels in a bag.

He looks at me expressionlessly, then heads back to the closet.

“Right, this is going in the garbage too.”