My Colossally Horrid Mistake or… Honey Bunches of No!

Ignore the caption.  Instead just look at the photo.  Don't you just love it when your teenager makes a colossal mistake, and when you ask them why they did it, this is the reaction you get?

Don't you just want to throttle them when they give you this face?  When my son makes this face it makes me rethink his need to live until his 17th year, bless his little heart.

Well, this week I myself made a colossal, almost catastrophic, mistake.  I ventured into my teenaged sons room with the intention of just "picking up a little."  Now seriously, I know better.  I am aware of his tendency towards slobdom.  But did I listen to myself?  Noooooo, I ventured right in.  It started with me deciding to move his desk, just to be able to vacuum  a little better.  BIG mistake.  HUGE!  Because, having moved the desk I happened to glance down at the shelves that were part of it.   Much to my horror, laying on one of the shelves, was a mold growing experiment of some sort…… Nice…..  His room alone makes me glad that we have my favorite man Dexter come out every 3 months to spray for bugs…ahhhhh for the love of Gelato I can't even begin to scrub this image from my brain.

Then, I caught just a glimpse, just a quick dart of the eyes, of what lay underneath the bed.  And thus began my long, slow decent into what I now call the darkest pit of Hades.  Like a teenaged girl in a horror flick, I just couldn't resist looking at what lurked beneath, although I was pretty sure that the items contained under there might do me bodily harm.  Gah!  Who knew that I had my very own episode of hoarders lurking in my home?  Oh, honey bunches of no!  This was not going to stay this way. 

It was at this point that I began to pray, not for my safety mind you, but that God would somehow spare the child from the wrath of Darth Mother- destroyer of all fun and chief grounder of children (i.e. me).  Part-way through this project, I began to realize that I had made a horrible, terrible, awful mistake by coming in this room to clean.  But once I was fully cognizant of the little shop of horrors that lay beyond that door, I couldn't stop myself.  Needless to say, countless hours of my life,  3 large full trash bags, as well as the theme for a whole new set of nightmares later, the room is now sanitized  (read- bleached to the point that the air now burns your nostril hairs when walking in) and sparkling.  

When relaying this story over the phone to my husband (who is out of town with said teenaged son-- that's the only thing that spared said sons life), he asked me why I had made the mistake of going in there to clean.  To which I made this face (again ignore the caption):

I can almost (almost) laugh about it now ;)  And, despite the room problem- which shall not be named-- I still love my son and I am glad to inform you that he will probably survive.  Hope you have a great start of  the new week!