Sloppiness of the Brainiac

Our grandson is moving to college next weekend. He’s been told to clean his room before he starts packing.

I use the word room loosely because his room is the upstairs solarium and the largest room in the house. Typical guy, he got his girlfriend to come to help him.

I seldom go upstairs, so I didn’t know how bad it was until they carried out the fourth full trash bag.

He had that much junk, not to mention the piles of clothing. The floor of his closet was covered with clothes that had somehow “fallen off the hangers,” he said.

The trash is primarily boxes and bags he’s failed to take out of his room after shopping and from Christmas and birthday presents. He also had many pizza boxes, paper trash, and boxes from his never-ending shoe addiction.

No shoes or clothes were thrown away. Those are going to the local Care Center.

This boy of ours is whip-smart. Even good at math and science. But being organized and neat is apparently beyond him. Go figure.