I had some childfree time to myself the other day and after a hot piece of toast (hot toast, that I did not have to share!) and a cup of coffee I decided to be brave and take a before photo:
My five year olds room didn’t look too bad, just a jumble of clothes and an extra mattress. Simples….
Clean clothes go where they should live and dirty ones get thrown downstairs, right? Ummm, well, I’m afraid I resorted to the sniff test. Yuk, uk and double bleurgh. I’m having words with the boys tonight about how dirty clothes should go on the landing.
Rubbish went straight in the bin, which was nice and simple apart from the stones. The boy has a fascination with stones this year which thankfully are cleaner than sticks. Harder to throw stones out of the window than sticks though and he brings them home in his school bag, coat and trouser pockets. They turn up everywhere.
Anything that should live downstairs was put at the top of the stairs to be taken down. And I do mean right at the top of the stairs. Right where you have to step so there’s no choice but to move it. Not notice it, I’m very good at noticing things and doing not much about said things.
I did notice the big grey mattress as I almost tripped over it. After much wiggling, pushing and kicking the damn mattress I got it under the bed and out of sight. So. Much. Better:
Unfortunately, it’s only when I hovered that I heard the unmistakable sound of crumbs being sucked up. Crumbs! In a room where food should not be eaten and, under closer inspection, in the bed too.
I didn’t change the bedding, move the bed or get the big, annoying grey mattress out again to hover up the crumbs – should have – but didn’t. It’s a job for another day. And a job for the person who lets the boy eat crackers in bed.