When I left for school my freshman year, my brother and sister started using my bedroom as dumping grounds for anything they didn't want. Old poster? Loren's room. A pair of ugly socks? Oh, those aren't mine, but I'll put them in Loren's room. Broken mini Simon game we used to play in the car? Maybe Loren wants that. I'll toss it in her room. At the end of the year, they moved me out of my room and into my sister's much smaller room, and consequently there as been a lot of stuff-switching gone on between us over the past two and a half years. But since I have the disadvantage (it's hard to toss stuff in her room from 200 miles away), I've been losing a lot lately.
This is the first time I've been home this year, and when I got home Jimmy wasn't back from school yet. We were cleaning up for people to stay at our house this weekend, and I found a cd player and a shoebox on my bed. And I had to blame Erin, because she's the only one of us left at home.
"This isn't my cd player."
"Well I don't want it."
"Neither do I, it's not mine."
"Just put it in Jimmy's room."
And I have to admit, rather guiltily, that I did go ahead and put it in my brother's room. But isn't Erin lucky? Now she has two rooms to choose from when deciding what to do with the stuff she doesn't want.
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