Not My Type

Two days before school started last week, I got a little antsy.  I mean I got a LOT antsy.  Chase's room was making my hair stand on end. Seriously.  Since that child seems to be a tornado, when his room is in chaos, our whole house seems to follow suit.

 

I am not sure what the starting of school had to do with the cleaning of his room.  But for some weird reason, I couldn't stand the thought of him entering the third grade with his room in such disarray.

 

Whatever.

 

I forgot to take a before picture; before the 4 bags of trash, before the filled bag of DI donations, the box of misplaced household items, the shampooed carpet...

 

 My child is a S-E-R-I-O-U-S WALL-E.  His favorite words to live by:

 

"One man's trash is another man's treasure"

 

And live by them he does.

 

I do happen to have a picture that I took of his room last year for a school assignment.  This is pretty close to how bad his room was before our two day odyssey.  I know it just shouldn't seem possible, but it actually was WORSE than this picture: 

 

 

 

Funny thing about this messy picture.  He came home last fall, in the second grade, with an assignment to bring back something from his house that described one of the words on his weekly vocabulary list.

 

He chose the word "disaster".

 

So, after 4 hours of organizing, rearranging, discarding, tear-shedding (from boy and from mom), dusting, vacuuming, shampooing...

 

We have this:

 

 

Ahhhhh.  Soooooo fabulous.

That night at bedtime, Chase, after having walked in and out of his newly cleaned pad several times that day, exclaimed:

"Arghhhh!  This room is too clean for my type!"

Apparently, I have converted him somewhat.  A week later, it still looks that same.

Suh-weeeeet!