Snowballs

Yes, I know it’s summer. And, no, I’ve not been drinking Advocat. 

How can a little request of “Please tidy up so I can vacuum your bedroom floor” turn into a mass clear up session? Because my lovely girl is a drama queen. And a slob. That’s why. 

Instead of just picking up the random items that were laying about her room, she instead decided that she needed to clear up all the piles of “stuff” and sort out her books. Two hours later her room looks great. It always does for around 2 days after it has been tidied up. I guarantee that by the end of the week I will yet again be asking her to put clothes back in her wardrobe; to pick hair bobbles off the floor; to decide which of the 3-4 books that she has taken from the shelf she is actually reading and out the others away; etc etc. I bore myself sometimes. 

The tidying of the room is not a huge problem in its own right. I like it when she tidies up. It’s the knock on effect that the tidying has that drives me mad. Whilst waiting to vacuum her room I decided to put some washing away. And sorted out the airing cupboard. Then I had to put some Piriton back in the medicine box (it had found its way into the bathroom cupboard) and ended up culling the out of date medicines. This then resulted in me sorting out the big kitchen cupboard where the medicine box resides. I emptied some Tupperware (IKEA equivalent) of their meagre contents and condensed it into one container. The Tupperware (IKEA equivalent) then needed washing up and putting with its friends back in another cupboard. You can see where this is going. 

By the time I was able to vacuum A’s room I had practically Spring (Summer) cleaned the whole house. 

Snowballs. I hate them. But I’ve got quite a tidy house. For now. 

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