
"I forgot about this Wolverine action figure!"
"That's what happened to that puzzle piece!"
"There's my math homework!"
This under-bed-clean-sweep undoubtedly takes hours because the child must spend satisfactory time pondering and playing with each newly discovered toy. It's expected that when we take the occasional progress-peek into the room, we will never catch the child in the act of cleaning. My favorite oft-used term from my son is "I was just gonna." But after many laborious hours (on the part of the parent, that is) of progress peeks and gentle (and not so gentle) nudges to drop toys into the "donate" bag, the darkened den is devoid of dusty knicknacks. Suddenly, games all have their pieces again, Pikachu joins his friends, and Spiderman is reunited with his head. Now, as for my plans to go through my closets? I was just gonna.
I have to remind Spenser of his daily chores. He has one of those beds that is drawers underneath rather than a settling spot for all things doomed for the black hole. His closet, on the other hand, is atrocious and filled with toys he can't part with but hasn't touched since 4th grade. Ugh.
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