Another installment in my endless quest to mother less, but no less than necessary.
First, the bad news:
This is what Middle’s room looks like now that I have decided that part of mothering a 17 year old less is not nagging him about cleaning up his room or lecturing him on the impossibility of having a clear mind when one’s environment is polluted:
Now for the good news:
I actually heard the following words flow, unbidden, out of his mouth: "I have got to clean my room."
Not that he has done it yet.