Bible Gateway

Friday, July 20, 2007

I've got clutter!

(Sung to the theme song of Sanford & Son)

I've got clutter
I've got clutter, clutter, clutter.
I've got clutter

(Thank you, comedian Bone)

That perfectly describes my house. Well, at least my son's room and my laundry/office/storage room.

"Son, your room is a mess," I pointed to the ocean of toys covering what used to be seen as carpet. "I think it's time we get rid of some of your things."

"No, Momma," he cried. "They're my toys."

"You are to the point you are not able to keep your room clean." I said in a surprisingly stern voice. I hate making the kids get rid of their belongings.

"Aw, Momma," he said clinging to my waist. "I try..."

"I've got an idea. Why don't' we go through your room together and you tell me what toys you want to sell. Then we can take them over to great-grandma's resale shop and sell them. All the money will be yours to do with, however you want."

He cocked his head to the side and frowned. "You are going to clean my room?"


"And I'm going to get money?"


"Whoo-hoo!" He ran to his room and then turned to look back at me. "What'cha waiting on Momma, get to cleaning."

After an exhausting day of sorting through minuscule toys, we hauled two bags of good, usable toys to great-grandma's shop and we had two completely full trash bags of clutter toys. You know the ones I mean. Happy Meal Toys, Dollar Store toys, toys bought at Goodwill when I caved in to pressure, all of them stuffed these two bags. I decided since Goodwill lured me into buying a good portion of the junk,, I mean toys, they should have them back. But then a wonderful thing happen. The three-year old boy, which I've mentioned before on this blog, came over to play and wanted the bags. Yes, he can take them home and save me a trip to the donation box.

As I typed at my computer, he stumbled into my office. "Hey, you. I wanna go home. Take me home."

"You walked here didn't ya?" I continued typing on my great American novel.

"I can't take those two big bags home by myself. I just little. You want me to trip and fall or something?"

"Little mister, you do not demand me to take you home. You speak respectful to me and ask me to drive you home." I stopped what I was doing and decided it was about time to pick up my drama diva from acting camp.

"Would you take me home or what?" I dismissed the absence of the please and suspected that this was as good as I was going to get.

"You boys load the bags in the car and we'll go." I wondered at this point how his little grandma was going to feel about having two bag fulls of trash being hauled into her tidy home. I decided to keep the car running...drop the kid off in a hurry before she could come outside to demand me to take back my junk, I mean toys.

I loaded up the boys. We drove slowly down the street to his grandma's house. "Are you ready to get out?" I asked him before I ever stopped the car. I looked around the house to see if his grandma was watching. With no one in sight, I parked the car and turned around. "Son, you help him take the bags to the front door and then hurry as fast as you can back to the car. I don't want to get cau...I mean we need to get your sister from acting camp, so hurry."

I watched the boys struggle, heaving the bags up the steps. I rolled down the window. "Son, hurry. Come back to the car, quickly!"

The boy hollered at me. "Wait! I need him to help me open up the front door."

I nodded.

The door opened. I could see the inside of a clean living room. My heart quickened. That woman is going to curse the day she ever agreed to allow her grandson to come to my house. She is going to think I purposely pawned the junk,, toys off on him. Any minute she's going to come out and tell me to get these bags and get them back in my car.

"Son, come now." I said, perspiration beaded on my upper lip. "Get in the car."

My son the angel he is smiled at me. Did a little hop. And then he snuck behind a tree. I could hear him giggling. Did he know why Momma was in such a hurry? Could he possibly be that ornery?


He fled the tree and jumped in the car. I sped away.

"How much money do ya think I'll get?" He said as he buckled.

"I don't know," I said as I checked my rearview mirror at the house fading behind us. I imagine this isn't over.

1 comment:

Mindy Obenhaus said...

Never a dull moment, is there? Ah, what I wouldn't give for dull.

As for the clutter, I'm right there with you. But how is one to have time to write the great american novel AND declutter? When you figure that part out, let me know :-)

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