It is true and not at all an exaggeration when I tell you that I hauled eight bags of garbage out of The Girl Child's play room last night. The Schroedad and I were in the hole, akin to the chokey- but entirely less drippy, setting up a bin system.
It began with me, Smarty Pants- mother of the year even, freaking out about the disaster zone that the 'play room' had become. The floor wasn't visible due to the copious amounts of junk splayed out like dead bodies. And it wasn't just toys either, clothes, shoes, missing dogs, ok not the last one- but they could have been there unawares to us. We found my niece's jacket that's been missing for a few months. And far too many spiders, one, but still far too many for my liking.
The Schroeder, bless him forever, was out looking at Ikea, Home Depot and Walmart until ten-o'clock, shopping for the bins and shelves. I think we finally stumbled to bed around one-thirty in the morning, but I've never slept better. The peaceful sleep that comes from organizing is second to none, but don't you agree?