By sarahleelopez4377 on August 27, 2014
So today I decided it would be a bit of a spring cleaning Sunday (which was one of my more stupid ideas) and I needed to start with my son's room hands down. Of course I tell my kids clean your room, clean your room, holy hell clean your room but a kids version of cleaning a room quite differs from an actual cleaning. Add to that the kid being a boy and we are talking about a parallel universe where disgusting is the standard way of life.
Now I only get in and help clean my son's room like twice a year because it is traumatizing and exhausting. When I get in and help clean I do mean clean as in get in the closets, drawers, clean carpet you know the actual act of cleaning as defined by most normal people. As we venture in to this idea of madness I encounter a world where disgusting knows no bounds, it is almost an art form how, a dark talent to be this dirty and accepting of it.
Dirty socks in toy bins, gummies clinging to the carpet in dark corners, food remnants floating randomly on other pieces of trash and some random spot of blue goo melted in to the carpet which I can only assume had met a grisly end in my son's sublimely clean room. Let me not forget to highlight the walls which I am pretty sure were white when we moved in but now resemble the dirt smeared walls you'd likely see in prison..... I can't even begin to know
I grew up with no brothers or male cousins so raising boys has been quite the loud, dirty, rowdy, strange eye opening experience.
Truth Shall Set You Free So Don't Be A Crybaby