“How many times have I told him to clean up his room?”
“Now dear, he’s young. I certainly never kept my room spotless at that age.”
“I stepped on one of those little cars in the middle of the night, when he left it out in the hall. You heard the scream, those damned things hurt.”
“We’ve punished him for that already. Toy cars are just a phase that a lot of boys go through, if we’re just patient, he’ll outgrow it.”
“If I can talk Paul into it, I’m going to see if he’ll move them into the sandbox.”
100 words. Inspired by this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt:
ParkInkSpot 