“History is the witness that testifies to the passing of time; it illumines reality, vitalizes memory, provides guidance in daily life and brings us tidings of antiquity.” –Cicero

My mom is visiting the house I live in now for the first time. As I was showing her around we stopped in the doorway of Blaise’s room (I didn’t let her step in because, well, I care about her health), I swept my arm out and declared, “This is what Blaise calls clean. Can you believe that?”

She quickly replied, “Don’t you remember when Dad and I made you stay home from school for a day to clean your room because it was so bad?”

Yes, Mom, yes. I do remember that.

There’s nothing like an eyewitness to my teenage years to ruin my righteous indignation over MY teenager’s disgusting habits.

Blaise's Room

My son's "clean" room

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