might be useful； what can be saved。 Everything goes。 I scrub the tub and sink clean of her。 When I am finished； it is as sterile and impersonal as a motel bathroom。
In her bedroom I find mismatched socks under her bed and frayed panties on the closet floor。 Desk drawers are filled with school papers； filed by year and subject。 I catch myself reading through poems and essays； admiring high scores on tests and reading her name； printed or typed neatly in the upper right…hand corner of each paper。 I pack the desk contents into a box。 Six months。 I think。 I wilI give her six months to collect her belongings； and then I will throw it all away。 That is fair。 Grown…ups pay for stortage。
Her books stymie me。 Dr。 Seuss； Sweet Valley High； R。 L。 Stine； Baby…sitters Club； Shakespeare； The Odyssey and The Iliad； romance novels； historical novels and textbooks。 A lifetime of reading；each book beloved。 I want to be heartless； to stuff them in paper sacks for the used bookstore。 I love books as much as she does； I cram them onto a single bookshelf to deal with later。txt電子書分享平臺
她留下了一團糟（4）
I will turn her room into a crafts room。 Or create the fancy guest room I’ve always wanted。 But not for her benefit。 When grown…up life proves too hard and she es crawling back； she can stay in the basement or sleep on the couch。
My ruthlessness returns with a vengeance。 Dresses； sweaters； leggings； and shoes she hasn’t worn since seventh grade are crammed into garbage bags。
Her thoughtlessness appalls me。 Did I raise her to be like this？ To treat what she owns—what I paid for—as so much trash？ No； she left this mess to thumb her nose at me； as payback for treating her like the child she is。
“Fa la la； Mom； I am off to conquer the worl