Skipping a Generation

One afternoon when I was 17, I came home from hanging out with my buddies to learn I was on my mom's "list." Now there were probably several legitimate reasons to be on that list, but rather than show my cards, I simply played dumb and asked why. Ends up someone who worked with my dad was driving by the house with his wife when they decided to make an impromptu visit.

Mom had been enjoying a rare lazy Saturday, and hadn't done a lick of housework. Seeing the people coming, she rushed to shut all the bedroom doors, and prepared to show them Greek hospitality.

Much to Mom's horror, at some point the woman asked to see the house. That was the reason I was on the "list." My sister's room was a disaster, mom and dad's wasn't much better - she hadn't even made their bed yet. But when she opened my bedroom door, the woman saw an immaculate room , all tidy and clean. The woman asked if it was the spare room, and mom had to admit it was her fastidious 17-year old son's room.

I'd made the list for having the only clean bedroom in the house.

So it'll come as no surprise that the boys' bedrooms drive me crazy. I mean, seriously, it takes just as much time to SHUT the drawer as it does to open it. And in my opinion, shoving things under a table doesn't count as "putting them away."

Apparently keeping a bedroom tidy skips a generation...kind of like musical talent or diabetes!

 (In fairness, one drawer is left open to allow the cat to sleep in it.)

 (That is when he's not sleeping no Niko's bed...)