Yesterday afternoon, things at our house suddenly got very quiet. The kids were obviously upstairs, but the camaraderie I heard coming from the boys’ room as I went up the stairs was unusual.
I arrived at the boys’ door to find a notice, which had previously served as a warning for the mess inside, updated to say this:
6 hours! I thought, listening to the noises going on inside. I bet they’re cleaning it up.
Sure enough, one by one they came trickling out; first Cody, followed by Rachel, and some time later, Logan. As usual, the only one left, doing all the work herself, was Andie.
After awhile, Andie told me it was ready. I was greeted with a floor that I hadn’t seen in quite some time, newly made beds, an organized toy box and dressers, and this:
Just like the sign on the door, this warm welcome was scrawled by my youngest, and was, by Andie’s account, the extent of his involvement in the cleaning of the room, despite the duration of his presence there.
As it turns out, I should have taken a picture of the room itself as a commemoration of its brief stint as a decent, clean bedroom, because, wouldn’t you know it, today, the boys have completely dismantled it again. Of course, I didn’t discover this until I was putting Logan to bed.
Guess I know what’s on Cody and Logan’s agenda for tomorrow.