One Down, The Rest To Go

I cleaned up my daughter's room for Passover today.  That means something to people who understand the concept of "cleaning for Passover."  It means tearing apart every draw, moving away furniture, taking the bed apart.  You know, psycho stuff.

I must admit, 20 years of cleaning the house for Passover and it is getting a little faster.  Tomorrow, I take on my sons' room.  Now, this room, how do I describe it, okay.  How about: Hurricane Katrina.  Yes, all those photos you saw of the devastation, that's their room.

I have 4 boys in one room.  Correction, one 20-year old, two teenagers, and a nearly Bar Mitzvah boy.  We're not talking little kids with legos who might have left a few crackers laying around.  We're talking Category A slobs who won't pick up after themselves even if it meant facing a firing squad.

I know I sound like I'm exaggerating, but I'm not.  I might want to call my doctor and get myself some antibiotics, just in case I cut myself.  You never know what lurks in that mess.  In fact, better get to sleep early. It's gonna take all my strength to get the job done.