I think this is how most people hope God judges our lives: I coulda been much worse.
Looks like my corner (15 sf) of the ‘office’.
This is one of our godsons. His mum gave him a growl about his room. He turned in a circle and looked up at her. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
When my daughter did not clean her room, my wife cleaned it while our daughter was at a swim competition. When she came home my wife told her that 6 bags of garbage were throw out. My daughter asked what was thrown out. My wife said “Tell me what is missing and I’ll tell you if it was thrown out.” 25 years later my daughter still has no idea what was thrown out.
I caught our other son (cf. reply to Dani Rice) – just before he was old enough to be concerned about what girls thought of him – picking up a dirty sock and spraying it with room freshener so he could wear it again.
He just has too much stuff. Time to winnow it down.
That kid is such a little punk
There’s untidy and then there’s untidy. I’m a “pile for everything and everything in its pile” organiser; I know exactly where I keep things, but “exactly” is subject to an uncertainty principle – I don’t obsess if something is a few inches out of position. But it doesn’t always look tidy, and I appreciate that it would drive some people crazy. Whereas one of my kids kept their room hideously untidy while they wre at home as their personal act of rebellion, and is now way more organised than I could ever be.