Today I did a final run-through, aka clean out, of the boys’ rooms. I get one real shot at this purge every year, so even though it’s a sweaty, horrid mess of a job, it’s gotta be done.

Earlier this summer, I took the plunge into Jack’s closet of horrors by attempting to organize his zillions of Magic cards into boxes. Don’t think I even tried to sort by color or set or anything; no, I simply wanted them short side up and in card boxes. In the meantime I threw out a ludicrous number of foil wrappers, pistachio shells, pretzels, the dried kidney bean here and there, and wads of tape and other random shit.

Meanwhile, Oliver’s horrific room.

I had Stanley Steamer come out to clean and deeply deodorize this special place in my home. “What are these black spots, ma’am?”

“Well, sir, it’s my hope that they’re spatters of blood from Ol’s frequent nosebleeds rather than mold.”

He looked terrified.

I imagine I would have, too.

I had frequent nosebleeds as a child. At one point I had to have my nostrils cauterized. Mercifully they knocked me out for the procedure. Less mercifully they did so via suppository. I believe that I am still scarred from the nurse sing-songing that she was just going to put this “up your hiney.”

Oh.my.god.

Anyway, I still get nosebleeds, but not as frequently. Ol does. Hence the black spots. Which Stanley couldn’t get up. At least nothing involved a hiney.

Tomorrow I fly to Maine to rent a car to pick up the boys to drive them home. Because of stupid Covid and the even-stupider folks who refuse vaccinations or deny the virus, there can be no final camp campfire this year and we are limited to just one hour of pickup. So, it’s a lot of travel for 60 minutes of at-camp fun, but alas. I will see a dear friend I’ve missed since 2019 and relish a bit of time in Portland and snuggle my boys like a lunatic mama bear starting Sunday around 11:30am. I can’t wait to see how much they’ve grown. And, having not hear from Oliver in nearly three weeks, to simply lay eyes on that one.