The Room's Not Clean Until the Brick is Engraved!

I decided I wanted the whole house clean for Easter. All of it, all at once. There are seven people living here. Four of them know how to keep things tidy, two are learning, and one just tries to untidy things as fast as he can. So we started yesterday morning, and now we are finally done with everything. . .

. . . everything except MY room.

My room, where all the things I don't have time for right now get shoved in a corner. My room, the last bastion of clutter. My room, a mine field of unfinished projects.

For example, I had just finished making up bags of clothes to give away to various friends with appropriate sized children when I noticed a plastic bag under my desk. I pulled it out, and lo, I found a brick inside! This brick once stood in the wall of V-Hall in Deseret Towers, the very building where my husband and I met fifteen years ago! I couldn't let something like that languish in a plastic bag under my desk! I had to put an inscription on it and put it on display.

"This is part of cleaning my room!" I told my husband as I took the brick down to the garage. "The room's not clean until the brick is engraved!"


It didn't take long. I have a Dremel with a diamond engraving bit. Tee hee.