Maid Son

Messy Room

“Timmy, I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. Clean up this room already!”

“But mom,” Timmy whined, laying lazily on his bed playing Candy Crush on his phone. “I like it this way.” He looked at his room. Countless clothes scattered haphazardly all over his chair, desk, and floor. Random fast food bags and plastic wrappers from snacks he’d eaten over the weeks. A few college textbooks on the floor. Random magazines – like Game Informer and Sports Illustrated – here and there. A hamper overflowing with dirty laundry that had “man stink” from soccer practice. A smell that lingered throughout his room. It was a mess. Maybe not the worst or messiest room in the universe – it wasn’t like a film crew from an episode of Hoarders was going to stop by or anything, but it was certainly enough for an exhausted mom to feel the need to constantly nag and complain. After all, he was 18 years old now. If he hadn’t learned to clean up after himself at this point in life, would he ever? “I have a system,” he said, surveying his mess. “I know where everything is.”

“Well, you can know where everything is when it’s all cleaned up and put away in proper places too,” his mother sighed. He did his best to ignore her and keep playing on his phone. She stood in his doorway, refusing to leave until he agreed to clean. “Look,” she said, “I know you wanted to save money by living at home your first year in college, but honey, sweetie, as long as you’re living under this roof, you have to obey our rules.”

Timmy rolled his eyes and kept playing.

“If you want to get a job and pay for your own apartment, that’s fine, you can keep it however you want. But girls will be turned off by a messy room. They like things neat and clean and tidy.”

He just rolled his eyes and continued ignoring her.

She sighed again. They’d had this conversation a hundred times already. “Just – this room had better be clean by the time I get home from work tonight.”

He didn’t respond. He scored a ton of points in Candy Crush and suddenly leveled up. “Yes!” he excitedly said about that.

“You hear me?”

He made a non-descript grunt in reply.

“Timothy.” Her voice became abruptly more stern and impatient.

He sighed. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll clean up before you get home.”

“I love you,” she said.

“Love you too, mom,” he replied, not taking his eyes off his phone’s screen.

She looked at the mess one more time. “I’ll be home by six. I expect to see the floor by then.”

“Uh huh,” he replied. “No problem.”

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