Battle of the Clean Room

I’ve heard parents say in my BC days (Before Children) “Battles between parent and child should be picked wisely, otherwise you find yourselves in a constant uproar over every little thing”.

Sounded like sound advice at the time, but in fact it was a rather sophisticated way of saying "I am sick and tired of being sick and tired." It is during times like this when I feel I have left the raising of my children to themselves, especially when it comes to their rooms.

I try to give them a little space and have even gone so far as to let them be the judge of how often to pick up as long as it doesn't spill over into the rest of the house. The big rule around here in regards to the bedroom is; "Cut a trail to the bed in the event we need to rescue you from a fire in the middle of the night."

Not asking much are we? Yesterday, in our home we had the battle of the clean room. Just what exactly is clean? I have come to the conclusion that the word clean means something entirely different to me than it does to my children. In fact, I am certain of it because I have the only 9 year old in the history of mankind that can stand in a shower for 45 minutes, have squeaky clean hair, and still come out with chocolate ice-cream smudges on her face! Go figure.

I like to believe that I am a patient person and that is why I give my children the deadline of "You have 3 days" when I get into my "You need to clean your room mode". It's not that I am patient, I just live in a dream world.

During the deadline period in which my kids are supposed to be shoveling out their rooms, I am secretly hoping that the Lord will call us all home. I have always heard that cleanliness is next to Godliness. If that's the case then my kids are on a wild ride in the proverbial hand-basket headed “south” at this very moment!

What spurred on this tirade? Well, it was Abby's room. She couldn't seem to get it cleaned up. I was ready to vacuum her room and had plans to clean carpets. I finally uttered the dreaded words that strikes fear in the hearts of my children and said, "Don't worry about it, I'll clean it up."

My kids hate when I say that because what it really means is Kiss all your junk goodbye, I'm tired of picking it up and I'm throwing it all away. The real kicker is they are not allowed to be present when I clean their rooms. All they ever see is me, emerging from behind their bedroom doors with Hefty Lawn and Trash bags bursting at the seams and ready for the can outside. What a power trip!

Today, as I was cleaning out Abby's room many thoughts ran through my mind......What's that smell?.......Where did all these sunflower seed shells come from?.......We pick up way too much fast food, look at all these happy meal toys......What's that smell?.......Why are there scuba flippers in the sock drawer?....WHAT'S THAT SMELL?????

If anything good has come from this little adventure, it is the fact that I can now contact the EPA and let them know that a very important natural resource has been overlook for far too long. What would that be you ask? My friends that would be the dried banana peel.

Now this was not the entire banana peel I discovered, just a strip of it. At first I wasn't even sure what it was. After all, underneath her bed was rather dark and I was afraid the dust bunnies were rabid, and this "thing" was just out of my reach. I pushed myself forward with my toes while sliding underneath her bed on my stomach and THERE! I got it! What is this thing?

Upon closer examination in the much brighter light by the window, I discovered it was the aforementioned piece of banana peel. Strong as iron, brown as beautifully cured leather.

Perhaps it could be made into the soles of shoes for some Third World Country? Either way, it’s these little discoveries that make the whole thing worthwhile.

Oh yeah, that smell......a wet bathing suit left to cure in a plastic grocery bag after a trip to the aquatic center last week.