My youngest has a problem keeping her bedroom clean. I'm not unreasonable. Clean to me is stuff off the floor, maybe being able to walk into the room. Clean to her is. Well. Not that.
Last night I walked into her room. Actually I hopped in, jumping from one clean spot to the next. I stubbed my toe on a book that was lodged between her bed and her desk. It hurt. I said, "This room is getting on my last nerve."
Last night I walked into her room. Actually I hopped in, jumping from one clean spot to the next. I stubbed my toe on a book that was lodged between her bed and her desk. It hurt. I said, "This room is getting on my last nerve."
She looked up at me, her face angelic. "How many nerves do you have, Mommy?"
Ugh!
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