The Big Whale of a Mess

Today, Mom asked me to pick up in my room, again! But it’s MY room! Can’t I decide what to do with it? She told me that she only reminds me once a week, on Saturday nights. The rest of the time it’s up to me how I would like my room kept (or seen when my friends come over to visit.). When Mom comes around telling me to pick up my clothes from the floor, I feel like Jonah is reliving in me. God told him to warn the people of Ninevah for being bad – Mom told me to pick up my clothes. I do see a little resemblance, just slightly, mainly the fact that I really didn’t want to and neither did Jonah.

The reason I don’t want to? Well, the next time I get dressed or look for clothes I’m afraid they’re just going to be on the floor all over again, so what’s the use? I feel like running far, far away, looking for another home that won’t have me pick up my clothes or maybe better yet, where they have some modern invention that picks them up for you. Is that even invented? If not, there’s some business plan for me when I get older. I bet it will change the world, especially those other 11 year olds like me that don’t like picking up after themselves.

I stepped into my room and I saw it! The whale of a mess! Now I really felt like Jonah but this time with the WHALE! And it was out to get me, cause it was bigger than I expected. And it took me way longer than I wanted, which made me miss my drawing and doodling time.

I wonder if it would be a bit ­easier to pick up right away after I get dressed, put my dirty laundry in my hamper, put away my clean laundry, as soon as I get it from the line… I don’t know. But I might give it a try. After all, Jonah did feel sorry after his trip in the whale. I should learn from my messy whale lesson as well and see if there isn’t some other better way to deal with my stuff around my room and all over my floor.

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