Bedroom Befuddlement: The Marvel of Superheroes
I instruct my youngest son to clean his room every day. Honest. I do. Every. Day.
Something happens in there. I think. As far as I can tell, it is some sort of cosmic shift of papers from one side of the room to the other.
And there is this distinct odoriferous fragrance that can only be described one way: Teenage Boy.
As I stated in my previous post, I've gotten into the habit of closing the door. Add to that the lack of motivation to begin a major cleaning project at 3:00 pm on Friday afternoon. I mean, who has the energy to do that?
Only a superhero team could do that.
Enter Super Dev (my husband) and his sidekick (my youngest son and karate black-belt) Mr. Intensity!
Somehow they turned that disaster-area into something up to Mom-code. Which proves
Superheroes exist and actually live in my house. I was suspicious that my husband and son had alter-egos, but now they have truly been unmasked as the Terrific Twosome!
Superheroes don't always destroy a whole city block. Superheroes mean well--always--but have you ever notice what a mess they make when they are trying to save the world? Well, this time my superheroes proved me wrong!
Superheroes do fly in when my train gets derailed. My personal Amtrak was definitely getting off-track at 3:00 pm last Friday. In swooped my superhero team to stop my wheels from spinning and my engine from steaming. (My thinking and mood tend to backtrack at certain times of the day.)
Superheroes are just in time to save the day. Superheroes rarely act in my time-frame (typically early morning when the whole day is before me). They act when there are seconds (maybe minutes and hours) before the world comes to an end (which is when Mom is about to explode).
Monster Mess has been defeated once again.
Meanwhile, in another part of the house...