Up until twelve minutes ago, Sam’s room was unvacuumable.
Shoes, blankets, K’Nex, clothes, trash, bike helmet, school supplies and peanut butter crackers covering every square inch of floor, making it impassable. I even failed at my most recent attempt to put his clean clothes in, on top of, or near his dresser drawers, since I was barefoot at the time and couldn’t step into the room without impaling my foot on a train part.
This is how he answered the call to clean his room.
He feels his work is done.