Or winter cleaning. Whatever. Either way, the kids often help.
Well, they help me decide what stays and what goes!
(On a side note, Stevie did have several minutes of happy, independent play time...and sometimes, it's worth it! Well, until he got it tangled in his fire truck's wheels. Oy.)
Truck stays. Tape... what's left of it, goes.
Seeing a strung-out cassette tape reminds me of my brother Jon. He often took time to do special things for me...or just make me feel special. Though he was 6 years older than me and had other things he could do, he would take time just for me. He took apart an old cassette tape and cut it in even lengths, taping them to the ceiling, to make sort of a curtain that hung in my room. I could walk through it, and used it as a doorway and wall to my "back kitchen" when I would play restaurant. I never asked for it...and I loved it.