Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Hysteria! It's in the Bloodline, Baby


Yesterday, the Matron announced her closet cleaning intentions. Now, that impulse extended to Scarlett's room, as well. This would be the conversation leading up to the week-long residential summer camp where she is currently residing.

Matron: "Just so you know, when you go to camp, I'm cleaning your room."

Scarlett: "I'm not going to camp."

Matron: "Yes, you are. In the meantime, go through the closet and all your drawers and pull out clothes that are too big, too small, somebody else's or don't fit your current sense of style."

Scarlett: "Nothing fits that description."

Matron: "Give it a shot anyway."

Ten minutes and steady series of sighs and groans later, Scarlett emerged from the black hole with one pair of pants and a t-shirt. "Here."

Matron: "That's it? You know I'm cleaning you're room while you're at camp. Be prepared. I'm going through drawers. Deep-tissue level, okay? We could do it now, together?"

Scarlett: "No. And I'm not going to camp."

Well, she did, kicking and screaming.

But friends! Yesterday, after the Matron wrote her lovely blog post and purged her own well-ordered room, she decided to tackle Scarlett's. She entered at 11:00 a.m. Within ten minutes, it was the Matron who was kicking and screaming. Literally.

She pulled a pile, four feet high, from that child's closet.

There was even odor. The Matron had to go out in the hallway and let the rage wash away. Yogic breathing.

Friends, that room was so disgusting and so full of junk, in every corner! The Matron realized how little she had entered, as of late. Here's a short list of surprise finds:

  • one calcified bagel
  • one rotten banana, two apple cores
  • nine glasses
  • seven forks
  • every piece of paper Scarlett has touched in the past two years
  • twelve American Girl magazines
  • the three library books currently incurring fines
  • two feather boas, seven pirate eye patches, 22 copies of Peter Pan script
  • one piece of bone-dry poop, supplied by Satan's Familiar
The Matron nearly burst a gasket! Photos don't do justice, as the Matron was too busy tossing, organizing and scrubbing to document the muck in every drawer and on every surface.



There was even food inside of drawers! Scarlett sheds junk like skin cells and now the Matron knows where it all lands.


Whereas Scarlett could identify one pair of pants and a t-shirt with toss-away potential, her mother pulled out THREE bags!

The Matron emerged from her journey at 6 pm -- seven hours later. She hasn't seen that blanket in 2.7 years.


In the meantime, while the Matron cursed and scrubbed (really, she was in a tizzy - -she must get this child to clean at least a little!), she simultaneously worried about her daughter, whose farewell to her mother, was this:

"I'm definitely going to die here, so you should get a good look at me while you can."

Indeed, as Scarlett composed her Last Will and Testament the night before deaprture, the Matron sent an email message with this subject line, to the camp director: Hysteria, Heading Your Way.

And -- after seven hours of slaving in that adorable, complicated little slob's room -- she got this email message from the director:

"Dear Mary: We have an entirely different child at camp! We have the first day under our belts and Scarlett has certainly settled in! Her counselors said she led the songs in the cabin last night and fell asleep, just fine. I've seen her several times today and she's talking excitedly with her counselors, interacting with new friends and often, emerging as a leader. There's discussion of staging a play!"

He sent photos, just to prove what an effective little scam artist her child is. Look how alone and lonely Scarlett appears.




Now, that looks like a good idea, Scarlett. The Matron nearly wishes she had one to turn on herself after finding two pairs of her own shoes, one bracelet and a missing hair brush in your room.


When Scarlett comes home and sees this, the psychological collapse will be immediate and complete.

19 comments:

Melanie said...

As a former child slob, I kind of feel for S. In my family we called it being "a crapper." As in, "Have you seen Melanie's room? She's a crapper. The inside of her car? Crapper."

It ain't easy being a crapper.

Anonymous said...

And I thought only my boys' rooms could get that bad. Is it wrong that your post made me feel a teensy bit better??

Heather said...

Oh my. I would have been soooo mad at my mom if she did that. The carpet in my bedroom as a teen was yellow...I think.

Suburban Correspondent said...

You just have to go in there regularly. I have this problem here as well. Kids aren't able (except a few) to clean their own rooms. Some will take detailed direction, others (like Scarlett) just use it as an opportunity to get all dramatic. Ignore her. Leave a list for daily inspection (clear floor, clear tops of surfaces, clear bed, make bed) and a weekly inspection list (closets, whatever). If she doesn't do it, don't say anything; but whatever you go in there and pick up yourself (without her around) just may disappear for a while. You've got to step outside the drama vortex she creates or you will go insane.

Come to think of it, you didn't ask for my advice. But you got it anyway...

Anonymous said...

Can't stop laughing at the crapper. Lol.

Poor Matron. Poor Scarlett. Lucky us :)

smalltownme said...

Wow, the before of that room so reminded me of my boys' rooms. Although they didn't have the dried up food!

We moved both of them into bigger rooms. The older one (17) got rid of 95% of the stuff he hasn't touched in the last 5 years, but he still hasn't put the remaining 5% away! The younger one is still working on it. A box a day is all I ask.

I've got a toy store growing in the garage.

Anonymous said...

My younger's room? Would qualify for a Clean Sweep installment.

Anonymous said...

Awww poor thing looks so sad and lonely! :P

Rima said...

My brothers' rooms looked like that all the time growing up. My mom would give them two warnings and then anything that was on the ground would go on the curb. It used to really make my day.

Anonymous said...

If she doesn't want her room, I'll take it.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

The penalty of taking food into your room at our house is death.

Anonymous said...

Hi: I just had to de-lurk..I sent saucy's older brother off to camp (he wailed too!") I backed a borrowed HALF TON TRUCK below his bedroom window and I cleaned...and I threw everything away! When he arrived home from camp he was brandishing a brand new, shiny flashlight and proudly told me "I won this for having the cleanest bedroom at camp!"
He invited us to his home last night for dinner and I watched him order his three teenaged sons to clean their rooms!This too shall pass, just enjoy the ride!xoxo the fan

Unknown said...

You go, girl!
Maybe she'll surprise you and like it so much she'll keep it that way.
Hey! Stop laughing.

Angie said...

How in the hell do they accumulate so much stuff?

You just described my youngest to a "T".

Once after a 5 hour spree that involved many garbage bags and lots of deep breathing - I found a backpack with what was once a picnic lunch still inside. Let's just say the health department would have shut.us.down. Ugh.

Glad she's doing so well at camp, not that I had any doubt:)

Lynda said...

OMG - my 16 yr old STILL has a similar room - not so bad, but similar...her junk is mostly in the closet and under the bed.

A friend of mine picks up her kids' stray items - things left lying around and not put up - and saves them in a basket. Then, on Saturdays, she auctions them off to the highest bidder in the house.

Her youngest bought the oldest's iPod for $10.00.

They're getting better about leaving stuff all over the house.

Melinda said...

She better consider herself lucky if you let her come home at all. If you miss her too much, I'll ship Abby up! FREE!!

Anonymous said...

I feel better looking at that room too. Hope S appreciates your hard work. I know a woman who actually let a spider loose in her daughter's room to stop her from having food in it. It worked. I guess the hysterics were hysterical.

Anonymous said...

if there were few words that if any of the four children, mostly grown now, had ever said to my face that would have resulted in slapping, yelling, cursing, swearing and hurting of the children, they would have been "i am not going to camp". you think i was going to miss doing the snoopy dance in the parking lot when that bus pulled out heading for camp, not freaking likely!! it was camp or locked in a closet. pick. and i could empty a closet faster than you could throw something on the floor kiddo!!!

Kimberly said...

I'm sorry, but the poop. The POOP! Damn S.F.

With two girls, I believe I have seen my future in this post. Minus the poop, hopefully.