My son is the most disgustingly dirty seven year old in the world. I just spent two hours in his room cleaning out and organizing and throwing trash away.
There are two types of trash in his room. There is the legitimate trash - assorted candy wrappers and bits of paper or the stray stale Cheezit that has fallen beside the bed. Then there are the things that mom classifies as trash and David classifies as treasure - pieces of paper with one sentence written or a picture drawn that have absolutely no significance to anything at all. But if you were to ask David what we should do with the five pieces of paper on which he tried to perfect the drawing of Sponge Bob Squarepants, he would say we definitely should save them. Definitely. And I definitely threw them away today. Thing is that David will never realize they are gone.
I wish I could freeze his room exactly the way it is now. It is straightened, organized, dusted, and freshly vacuumed. And this afternoon, when he arrives home, it will quickly be well on its way back to disgusting status. I give it two days, max.