“I don’t like cleaning up,” she complained. The floor was strewn with blocks, mini-figurines, doll’s clothing, crayons, plastic tea-set, make up kits, paper bits, and other detritus of a long afternoon.
Her brother frowned. He’s been occupied with his tablet instead of playing with her and while it was nice to have the chatterbox quiet for a change, he did not relish the prospect of doing the work or facing the dressing down he’d get if his parents returned to see the living room drowned under mountains of little-girl paraphernalia.
She glowered back, lower lip already quivering in preparation for what he knew all too well will be a battle he would lose.
“It’s not cleaning up,” he started.
“What?” she squinted, suspicious.
“You see,” he enticed, “it’s like magic …”
“Magic …? ” She still wasn’t buying it.
“Yes, magic! You’ll be making a mess in reverse!”
For The Daily Post