Dearest Children...
I can no longer guarantee your safety in my room. Because my room has transformed from a place of sleeping to a sewing and craft center.
No longer can you casually walk in barefoot (without knocking, I might add) for fear of stray pins and sharp double pointed knitting needles (remember that one time?). In addition, you might find a dreaded rotary cutter sitting upon the cutting mat on the floor or scissors splayed open and thrown to the side in my haste. There are also computer wires, extension cords, stray lengths of thread wrapped around chair legs, and pieces of lint that you might inadvertently inhale. Plop down on the bed, and you might find yourself bruised from the corner of a big craft book or poked by a pen that I left in bed after I jotted down ideas before falling asleep. Suffocation is a real threat from the piles of linen and batting that seem to grow larger each day. Don't even think about going near that hot iron teetering on the corner of the bed.
Yes, I agree with you, I should clean my room. Isn't that the refrain I throw out to you daily? But sometimes Moms are like that, blinded by the glaring sun reflecting off all the angles of our glass houses we live in.
Sigh, sometimes I do enjoy my view, though...
