Today was sort of a mess, from a purely physical standpoint. I hate messes; they're so...so...messy.
Wolf and I spent the day organizing the beastly piles of stuff he has managed to accumulate, including a gazillion-gallon tub full of outgrown clothing, read mail, and notebooks filled with zombie stories and interesting factoids. Truly a typical Asperger teen.
I let him turn on "Transformers 2" (oh, how the love of a mother knows no bounds) as we dumped out the contents then spent the next two hours going through it all, me cross-legged on the floor, he slouching on the couch. We laughed over goofy postcards sent by Yukon (where does he get these, anyway?), read magazines, and went silent for a minute over a letter of encouragement from his Popau who died a year ago. It was, for a brief few hours, a regular task by regular people, having regular fun.
Wolf does not like to get rid of anything, and we both agreed today was a major milestone.
A little housecleaning does a body good in so many ways, doesn't it?