I should be upstairs right now tossing Lucy's room like a pack of FBI agents. But I just can't make myself do it yet. At first glance, it looks alright up there. Fairly tidy by 5 year old housekeeping standards. Upon closer look, an observer will notice that contained in those pink and green IKEA bins is a heinous debacle frightening enough to get FEMA's ineffective butt into gear. Barbie is mixed in with the pieces to a puzzle of the USA. Barley able to catch her little plastic breathe with California weighing on her so. There are doll clothes mixed in with half finished glue jobs and pipe cleaners. I opened one bin to discover it filled to the brim with toilet tissue. Apparently there was a terrible accident involving the Mommy doll from Lucy's doll house and that bin is acting as Mommy dolls hospital bed. I am fairly sure there are enough little pink plastic hair brushes up there to keep all the dolls in all the word perfectly coiffed until the end times.
I have my work cut out for me. I am on a time line too, if I don't get everyone back in there proper bins before she gets home, she will start asking questions. "Where did that half of a puzzle of a baby tiger go? The good one, that I was saving?" Then I will have to lie. But, if I get it all sorted and culled and back in the bins before school is out, I am golden. She will delight in mixing it all back up again, never noticing that the tiny pink hair brush collection has been cut in half, the rejects sent out into the wilds of the Salvation Army van. Alright, enough procrastinating.
Off I go.
Wish me luck.
Okay, I am really going.
Now.
In just a minute.
Comments