The power of the web

I opened the lad’s bedroom door this morning and shut it again quickly before anything escaped. I’m sure things must be living in there. Multiplying even. That room has reached critical mass.

And, you know, I’ve requested, nicely, that he clean his room. Not even a wholesale cleaning, just putting stuff back where it belongs and clearing the desk, picking up the clothes on the floor. All I want to see is the floor. That’s all.

I don’t figure it’s really worth a fight. No raised voices. I just want it reasonably clean in there. Borderline sanitary, at least.

Well, it really does go in one ear and out the other.

So. I got my little pen camera out. I took pictures. I loaded them on my computer. And when the lad came home a little while ago, I asked him to come in and look at something.

His face registered the horror. “You’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do, are you?” he asked, looking at the pictures. “You wouldn’t do that!”

“Yes, I would,” I said. “Unless you do something to change my mind.”

Heavy duty cleaning in progress. Heh!