Hoarders.....

Sooooooo, I have promised my daughter I will get in the trenches with her and help her clean her room.  WHY??? You ask.....   It has gotten to the stage of bad it is bothering me.  And I can happily sleep at night with laundry unfolded and dishes undone.  It is so bad I fear her ability to flee if we had a fire.  I fear more a pile falling on her in the night.  I fear most a raccoon family is coexisting with her, happily hiding in her piles of clothes by day and roaming free at night.  I exaggerate! I do fear I am raising a p-i-g pen though!  
Her room is filled with her treasure, by which I mean total crap we don't know what to do with, but simply cannot let go and 10,003 loose bobby pins.  The act of inserting a hanger into a piece of clothing and then placing it on the bar is almost completely foreign to her.  This was not the case when she was 3.  What happened?  It doesn't matter now.  We HAVE to go in. Luckily it is not disgusting filthy, just a big huge overwhelming clutter mess!  Maybe if we work in 30 minute increments and allow frequent breaks for wine (me) and whine (her)  no one will have a full on meltdown.  Maybe......
And maybe when the crew from Hoarders shows up I can casually say, "Oh, I am so sorry.  You must have received some bad information.  We are a tidy bunch here!"