When my kids were young, I was always after them to keep their rooms clean, without a lot of junk scattered around the floor.
This weekend I got reminded of that when my son and his wife came for a visit. My spare bedroom had taken on an over population of boxes with paper dating back a couple of years.
What they didn’t know was that I had already gotten rid of the many empty boxes that found a home in that room for weeks and weeks and months and months. The Christmas decorations lounged in there far too long.
They wanted to help me rearrange and clean up that room. That sounded pretty good because I did want it to look more like a bedroom than a recycling center.
My son lugged boxes out to the living room and suggested I sort through the papers I was saving to see what could be terminated. Five large garbage bags later, the room was stripped of old bills from 2017 and a lot of typed stuff I saved for what, I don’t know. I had a folder of the feature stories I wrote before I left the Advertiser-Gleam.
In the bedroom, there was also a hutch/desk I wanted to move out into my roomy master bedroom. But first I had to sort through all that it contained.
I found my birth certificate, the passport that I thought was lost, a couple of handfuls of pencils, 3 boxes of staples and $75 amongst a ton of other little things. The $75 was a gift that I never knew I had gotten. That’s how piled high my desk can get.
It was a tiring afternoon but you should see the guest bedroom now. It looks like a bedroom. Guests can even walk around in the room without bumping into boxes on the floor. I always worried about that.
My son now threatens to keep tabs on the bedroom so that I don’t cram stuff in there again. Boxes are forbidden in there. My daughter said she’d check up on me.
Sort of reminds me of years ago...
“This room better stay neat or else.”