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The room was a mess.
Jackets, hats, mismatched shoes, soccer bags, baseball bags, basketballs and a random collection of junk spilled out of the laundry/mud-room and into the hall--completely blocking the back door and cutting off the only access to the garage.
No matter how much I picked up, no matter how much I pleaded, yelled, demanded and punished the kids, the net result was always the same--the room was a mess. I was a mess.