Today’s story is a tale of how things rapidly escalate out of control when Mom is involved. Dad, naturally, was not at home at the time of the incident.
It all started when Jamie put on a T-shirt that was too short on him. “Hmmm.” Mom frowned. “When’s the last time you went through your shirts and cleaned out your dresser? Or anything in your room, for that matter?” Jamie shrugged. Wrong answer.
And so, it was decided that Mom would set the timer for 30 minutes. Jamie would tackle the dresser; Mom would tackle the closet. At the end of 30 minutes, the job should be done. I found a cozy place on the bed to snuggle down and watch. And stay out of the way.
They flew to work and got the job done in the time elapsed. I was impressed, and continued to watch with interest. Something was up.
That was when Mom announced that they were “moving on” to the two spare rooms. Jamie looked horrified, but Mom had roped him in. The spare rooms are where all the junk has collected.
“I’ll set a time limit of three hours. In that time, we’ll work as hard and fast as we can and get as much done as possible. We’ll be done for the day, and if needed, we’ll come back to it tomorrow,” Mom promised.
I want to point out that, the only reason Jamie went along with this, is that one of the spare rooms is going to be his “train room”. Right now, he has trains in that room, the basement, and his bedroom proper. The idea of having a centralized “train room” is very attractive to him.
The ensuing frenzy of activity was really something to see. The bagging, sorting, garbage-ing, swearing, sweating, moaning, and groaning, was fantastic. Mom kept shouting words of encouragement. She wouldn’t let me take any pictures, though. She was too embarrassed of the mess.
The really cool thing is, I found an old bag of “Sour Patch Kids” that Jamie was throwing away, and while the humans were busy, I snuffled through the trash and ate all the candy. Brrrr, it was sour. But tasty and chewy at the same time. After I ate it and made a mess of the wrapper, Jamie snitched on me to Mom, who gave me A Look. But she was knee deep in shoes, and didn’t say anything.
Finally, Mom yelled, “Wrap it up!” and they took out all the garbage. Mom called The Epilepsy Foundation to arrange for a pick up of all the bags of donations. There’s no way all that stuff would fit into Zeus.
There’s more cleaning to be done tomorrow, but for now, the humans are tired out.
Woof! Love, Maggie