
The reason that I’m mad today
is cause my mom won’t let me play
until my room is neat and clean.
That’s why I think my mom is mean.
And so I’m standing by my bed;
my piles of junk fill me with dread.
What to do with all this stuff
makes my decisions really tough.
What should stay and what should go?
That’s the problem — I don’t know!
You see, I simply don’t have space
for all the things to have a place.
Two hours later, you can see
my room is tidy as can be.
Cleaning’s hard and time sure drags.
What really helps is lots of bags.
Mom’s been shopping all the while
I’ve cleaned my room and now can smile.
I couldn’t decide what I should trash
so took those bags and hid my stash.
It’s down beneath the basement stairs,
far from all parental glares,
hidden in the crawl space gloom.
Now I can play — I’ve cleaned my room!
Sounds like how I used to clean my room!
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Actually, Herb, this is exactly how I used to clean my room. My mom would find the bags in the crawl space under the stairs and deal with the junk months later.
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I still apply that strategy today
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I don’t use bags anymore — I now have all kinds of drawers around the house. One of my resolutions is to tidy and organize a drawer a day. So far, I haven’t done any.
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Such a great topic for this particular time of year!
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Interesting timing for this poem. I heard a faint beep-beep-beep this morning – an alarm of some sort. I followed it downstairs, to the room under the stairs (furnace room) and there had been a leak in the humidifier. The floor was very wet. After I sucked up the water with the carpet cleaning machine and hubby had fixed the leak – it became apparent that it was time for hubby to deal with all the stuff that had, over the years, been stashed under the stairs.
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Margy, this made me laugh out loud. It’s a good thing you heard the beeping. I guess things could have been worse, but it doesn’t sound like too much fun.
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