Mess

Their son had never been good at keeping his bedroom tidy.

Usually, it was only his mother that had to confront the mess when she walked in. On the other hand, his father rarely had to confront it. This whole state of affairs came to a head the day the wife asked the husband to do something about it. She said it was a good time because he had just got home from school and he’d be up there now. So, it came to pass, that with a good deal of trepidation, putting down his crossword, the man went up to the room, knocked gently and went in. For several moments he stood, stunned, looking around. His son, lying on his bed, pulled off his headphones, but said nothing.

His father finally said. “What a snafu!”

His sun looked perplexed. “What?”

“SNAFU… It’s an acronym for Situation Normal: All Fowled Up.” He took the scene in again and said, “That’s the polite version.”

The boy looked around the room.

“Unkempt wouldn’t do it justice,” his father went on, “it’s positively tatterdemalion!”

The boy jumped off the bed and stood.

“Enough Dad, please!” he cried. “I’ll tidy up…”

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