Remember when, a few days ago, I told you to clean up your toys? I was pretty nice about it, right? Even though the piles/unholy amount of brightly coloured plastic was beyond ridiculous?
And remember when I told you the same thing a couple days later, and I was still pretty nice, but getting that expression on my face that sometimes makes you and your dad apologize without quite knowing why?
So last night, you should have known I meant business when I said that I would throw away every single toy that was left on the floor if it wasn’t cleaned up by today… right?
Can you explain to me then, why you went into hysterics when I quietly started placing said toys into the garbage bag this evening? Did you really think it was a good idea to ignore Mommy all that time, and keep dumping out those itty bitty Polly Pocket outfits, shoes, and other assorted plastic junk all over the floor?
I know that’s a lot of questions, Sweet Pea, but I’m really just trying to understand what your thought process is. You know Mommy always does what she says she’s going to do, so it couldn’t have been a real surprise for you.
I know that room is generally considered your toy box, but before you came along… it used to be our family room. I’d kinda like it back, if you don’t mind. Even, in fact, if you do. You’re welcome to stay, naturally, but your toys have to find another place to live. Your bedroom is pretty big, so let’s start there, shall we?
You know what I found particularly interesting, during your sob-fest, Baby Girl? I found it extremely enlightening that you were only upset that I put your stuffed dog in the bag, and didn’t seem to care about all the dolls, doll clothes, Polly Pocket stuff, Littlest Pet Shop animals, Barbies, or anything else for that matter.
I think maybe I have a kid with too many toys. I think maybe… just maybe, mind you, you might be a teensy bit spoiled. For that I fear I must take full responsibility.
I see a big toy clean out in our future.