I stumbled upon this article and was reminded of my own battles of having to clean up my room.
My mom was always on my case to clean my room, but I never saw the point because no one saw my room. It was upstairs away from any visitors. My mom didn't agree with my opinion.
One one particular sunny Spring day I ignored my mom's threats of 'throwing out my stuff if I didn't clean up my room.' Like what was she really going to do?
I was watching TV in the living room when I looked out the window and saw a pair of pants, a hat, a sock sailing by. I ran outside and saw my mom, with my bedroom window open, throwing everything that was laying on my bedroom floor out the window.
It was pretty humbling picking my underwear out of the azalea bushes.