You made a bet with me that I couldn't clean our entire room by myself. You even bet me ten bucks that I couldn't clean it. You went to sleep laughing at my pathetic attempts to make a dent in your huge piles of unorganized laundry and your stack-o-stuff in the closet, on the desk, on your dresser. Well you're quite literally snoring in bed right now, and I'm sitting in a perfectly spotless room. I took a break to talk to Josh, but other than that, I sorted, organized, and filled two trash bags with all kinds of your junk all night. By the way, you're a full-fledged packrat. Some things are meant to be thrown away--trust me. Just let go of those old achievement days awards. You were ten. Times have changed.
I even made time to organize my mail and change my sheets. My laundry's washing right now and I think I'll take a shower before trying to go to bed. You're gonna be surprised when you wake up. Don't bother looking for those popsicle sticks; I threw them away. You'll thank me in a couple of weeks when you realize you never use them. You're welcome.
You owe me ten bucks.
Now try keeping it clean for more than a week. That's where I run into problems.
ReplyDeleteHa ha ha ha! I love everything about this post! The way you write makes it seem as if you are telling me the story directly. That is talent, my friend!
ReplyDeleteDon't throw away my popcicle sticks. I need 'em for arts and crafts. And for making popcicles.
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