Another sign of Spring's arrival in the Olson house is that I start to feel as if the entire house is one giant, musty sweater.
I open the windows and start to clear out months of hibernation filth.
Every year for a week or two, I celebrate the fact that my joints aren't screaming at me by scrubbing, sorting and taking loads of stuff to the goodwill.
My children hate it.
Apparently, when I clean up 'their' spaces, I'm sending them the message that I don't respect their hoarde and I don't think they are doing a good enough job at cleaning it themselves.
Mean, mean Mom.
Look, I'm a firm believer in closing the door when it comes to my kids and their bedrooms.
As long as I can't smell it, and they can find what they need and wear clean clothes it can be a mess.
However, they push the limits of the 'as long as I cant smell it' rule.
I can only close the door so many times before I go bonkers.
This week, I rolled up my sleeves, grabbed a roll of garbage bags and headed upstairs, where Grey and Zane have bedrooms.
I used the broom like a rake and pulled everything out into the center of the main area so I could just go through it all at once.
I have never seen such a mess, and I've lived with these kids for 20 years.
Some of the fun discoveries I made?
A sealed Ziploc bag of some sort of brown liquid.
An army of Lego men with their faces melted off.
No fewer than 50 pairs of crusty socks.
Boogers on the walls.
Two empty milk jugs.
Seven Nerf guns.
Two chewed up, exploded pens hidden under a mattress.
Silverware, thrown on the roof.
A cup filled with dried out pomegranate seeds.
Two 'lost' lunch boxes with half the lunch still in them.
It makes me long for the days of Duplos scattered on the floor and dropped pacifiers.
Two full days of cleaning, but it's done.
It's not going to be featured in any magazines, but the rooms are clean.
I may just padlock their bedroom doors and make them sleep in a tent outside.
Yes, I know I should have made them clean it, but they have been 'cleaning it' all along and sometimes, a kid needs a clean slate, even when they deserve a kick in the pants.
What's the worst mess your kids ever made?