Earlier this morning, William and I were cleaning & organizing his room.
Clothes were folded and put away or put in the dirty laundry. Dinosaurs were put back in their big, blue tub. Pirates were put in their box and in their spot in the closet. His train set was put back together, with extra pieces in a box next to it. Shoes were neatly arranged in their side of the closet. Puzzles were put back together and put neatly on their shelf. It was looking pretty good. (You'd think that with all this cool, fun stuff, he would spend HOURS playing in his room, with HIS toys - but NO, it is the princess dresses and polly pockets and barbies that are his toys of choice!)
We sat down together and surveyed our success.
"When you're done playing with your dinosaurs, you put them back in here and put the lid on. When you're done playing with your trains, you put the little pieces in that box and it goes right there."
Then on to the closet.
"Your shoes go right there so we don't lose them. Pirates go in their box when you're done playing with them, and your puzzles all go back on this shelf. That way your room stays nice and clean and we don't have big messes." I patiently explained to him, hoping that maybe this time, it would sink in and his room stops looking like a daily tornado has hit.
Looking into my eyes, and smiling, he very seriously said, "I forgive you, Mom."
I couldn't help it - I burst out laughing! "Forgive me for what?!" I asked him.
"I don't know," he said, laughing with me.
Well, so I guess it's MY fault for his messes. At least my silly son is forgiving!