Closet
At my house we have a closet under the stairs. The door to it is in the back of another closet. It’s like Harry Potter’s room. It’s where my kids have secret meetings.
I crawl in there twice a year, once to get the Christmas stuff, and later to put it away again. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to find anything this year.
You see, I just caught a glimpse in there and the floor is covered with 6 inches of pure mess. The closet has become a black hole for junk, an archeological midden, the sewer bottom for missing toy pieces and socks and books. I know how King Augeas felt.
Hope there’s no pizza in there.
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