My Life Is Just Like Top Gun. Only Not As Exciting. Or Cool. And Without F-14s. Or Tom Cruise.

So as promised in an earlier post (Drop And Give Me Twenty), I’ve enlisted David and Cameron in a massive de-cluttering, deep cleaning project that will be a weekly event until school starts up again in September. Today we (I use “we” in the sense of “pretty much mostly me”) tackled Justin and Alex’s bedroom.

I’m happy to report that every headless, wingless, or big punching handless action figure, every doll who looks like she needs an appointment with the prosthetics lab, every book with missing pages, and almost every toy that once shared its living quarters with french fries now has a one-way ticket to the landfill.

And multiple bags of age 3 and under toys and clothes went to P.R.O.P. and will hopefully live to see another day. It’s just like Toy Story 3, only not funny and cute. Or heartwarming. And it doesn’t have Tom Hanks. Or John Ratzenberger. Or a metrosexual Michael Keaton Ken doll. Other than that, it’s exactly the same.

Next stop will be Cameron’s room. That will be exactly like Scream. Only scarier.

Gonna take it right into the danger zone.

© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2011