My family watches a little boy several times a week. His name is Gilbert. He is nearly 4. He is like part of the family because we’ve taken care of him since he was 3 months old. He keeps up laughing and pulling our hair, alternately.
His Daddy works professionally cleaning, so Gilbert has always be very mess conscious.
I recently lost a significant amount of weight (yes, this is related, just wait for it), so I have piles of clothes I’m getting rid of, new clothes hanging from closet doors, seeds-to-be-planted scattered around my desk and heaps of books here and there… yes, I admit I am not terribly tidy right now. I keep meaning to clean but… you know… typing up this anecdote is more exciting(?).
So anyway, Gilbert marched into my room today and looked around with a stunned expression. “This is a HUGE MESS.” he informed me. Yes. Thank you. Go eat your grilled cheese sandwich.
Later during the day, with my mind miles away from the mess in my room I overheard Gilbert talking very seriously to me dad.
“Your daughter Valerie is a junk rat.”
Well. That’s a new one. Needless to say, tonight I am cleaning.
But if I MUST be a rat, can I at least be a cute one? Like THIS: