"I couldn't sleep last night!"
Me, "Why? We added a fan in your room." (Sidenote, we've said the H word on Beech Mountain, breaking out the summer fans for sleeping. After our March I swore I wasn't going to say "hot" until July but Mother Nature is proving me wrong.)
"Just as I was falling asleep, I was almost there, something ran up my leg!"
Me, "Ugh! Was it a spider?"
"No bigger."
"Mouse?"
"I don't know, maybe a squirrel. I went and got Shawnee in case it came back."
Me, "It can't be a squirrel, probably a mouse."
"Why would a mouse be in my room?"
Really?
Do you want to see why?
If you are OCD please stop here.
Seriously, this is a big trigger warning.
This is why there's probably a mouse in his room.
We have a dirty little secret in the Melang house,
Boys rooms.
I have all those perfect Mom friends that clean everything including their children's rooms, but I'm done with that. I don't touch them anymore.
Except for quarterly when all my dishes are missing and I lose my shit, screaming at them while throwing everything out the window.
They still ask me where their shit is and I have the standard answer, "In your room. Whenever I find it, I throw it in your room."
Which they answer, "Ugh, I'll never find it."
I've even stopped saying, "If you'll clean your room you'll probably find it."
I didn't even say this morning, "If you'd clean your room then the mouse wouldn't think it cozy enough for a home."
Nope, I'm not perfect, not even close. But my living space upstairs stays clean and mouse free, while I close the doors on our dirty little secret and push all the skeletons back in the closet.
Wait, is that a mouse I just saw run across my living room floor?
What's your dirty little secret?
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