A Clean Room
The other day, I spotted my seven-year old striding proudly out of his room.
I looked up from my book. “What’s up, big guy?”
He smiled. “I cleaned my room.”
“Yep.” He gestured with his hands. “The whole thing. Wanna see?”
“Sure.” I marked my place in the book and stood up. “Lead the way.”
“Great! It’s this way.”
“Yeah,” I said drily. “I know.”
He laughed and opened the door, then looked back at me, horrified. “Oh, no.” He held up both hands. “Wait right there!” He darted into his room.
Naturally, I couldn’t wait. I stepped forward and peeked around the corner – just in time to see him forcing his closet door the rest of the way closed.
He spun around to face me, eyes wide. “See?” he gestured at his Impressively Clean Room. “It’s all clean!”
“Looks great, kiddo.” I said.
“Yeah,” he laughed. “Thanks.”
“Watch out for Momma, though.” I said as I walked back to my book. “She likes to look in closets.”