Clean That Room!

Clean that room!

When I was a child, my room was a wild jungle of chaos and clutter. Toys were strewn everywhere, clothes littered the floor, and books seemed to have formed their own rebellious stacks. It was a place of wondrous disarray where I built my adventures and lost treasures among the mess.

My mother, a beacon of order and discipline, would enter the room, her eyebrows furrowed and her voice filled with gentle yet persistent determination. She held a broom in her hand, a tool that, in my young eyes, symbolized the authority of cleanliness.

She’d holler and fuss, her voice a gentle storm that gently pushed me toward the task at hand. “Clean this room,” she’d say, her tone both a command and a plea for transformation. She could see potential in the chaos, a room waiting to be reborn.

Oil on Canvas
16 x 20