Since Houston and Hayes were about 3 and 4 years old, they have been responsible for cleaning their own room. All their toys are stored in individual containers, grouped by the type. Most of the time they do an excellent job of only getting out one or two tubs at a time. I walked into their room and it looked like there had been a mass genocide and dismemberment of Bionicles. Their room appeared extremely messy, however it was just due to the multitude of tiny pieces covering the floor that actually all go into one container. I asked them to please clean up the mess while I cooked dinner. It really could have been picked up in a matter of 5 minutes.
Houston came out of his room several times, hoping I wouldn't notice him avoiding the task at hand and leaving it to Hayes to complete. Each time, he was sent back with the threat of a spanking. After about 45 minutes, I went to check on the progress. It was difficult to notice much improvement. Houston could sense my elevated mood as I began to give my ultimatum. With the most concerned and pitiful face, while holding his forehead, he interrupted, "But Mom, I feel like I have head trauma!"
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