It’s the weekend and I’ve had a few very late nights, that must explain the tiredness I’ve been feeling. Yesterday I took a whole 3 hour nap and I never take naps! What’s with that? It’s okay cause I didn’t have much to do during that time anyway, besides maybe cleaning my room. But just thinking about it makes me feel 99% more tired. Not my room, again!
When I feel it’s finally cleaned up, Mom comes and tells me to clean it up. I just don’t get it. Yes, I have toys all over the floor, but I’m playing with them. Yes, I have clothes all over the floor, but I just had to try them on to find a matching outfit. Yes, I have markers all over my desk, but I was just drawing. Can’t she see that I’m still using all that? I think all she can see is mess, and even after I’ve cleaned up my room. She comes in and spots that one or two or three pieces of trash in the corner of the floor behind my desk. Her eyes don’t work that well to notice all the things I’ve already picked up. …Well maybe because there are still more things out than picked up, hee. I love my Mom and I’m actually thankful that she reminds me to keep my room clean cause otherwise, unbeknownst to me, I would probably have invited a whole lot of unwanted creatures in there.
The other day Mimi, my cat, brings into my room a tiny cute little mouse that she found in the barn. Yikes! Yes, she killed it but she just wanted to show it off and maybe find it a home. Mom said “I wonder why she chose YOUR room to bring it to. Does she feel the smell matched it well? Or maybe she thought the mouse would feel more at home in my dirty room?” Ah, Mom! I didn’t like what she said and I certainly didn’t like what Mimi did. I quickly yelled for help! And Dad came to the rescue, in no time, hearing my signal of distress. My “knight in shining armor”, or more like in shorts and sandals, but that’s okay.
He’s my big, strong Dad, willing to help me whenever I ask for help (and if Mom agrees that he helps me). Sometimes Mom writes him secret Skype notes or an sms letting him know that he can’t help me UNTIL I’ve done something else first. Usually it’s to do with my job of lunch or dinner dishes. Brother and I take turns every day with it and sometimes I like to take a big long break before I do my dishes. I need extra energy to get started, so I lay on the couch for a few minutes beforehand. Actually, I kind of do it because the longer I stay out of the kitchen, the more Mom does some of her cooking dishes and cleaning. I don’t mind her doing a whole lot of other cleaning too, hee. Dad has to gently remind her that it’s my job. Ah, that’s when Dad is not really a help to me anymore.