Riley's "New" Room

We cleaned out Riley's room on the weekend. By cleaning it out, I mean actually 'giving' it to him in a sense because he, and Keira before, when she was a baby, has been sharing his space with our double bed/come spare room. Before now, this arrangement has worked well. On bad nights, when he's permanently attached to my breast, I just snuggle down in the bed and doze. I dress him on the bed. It was all good. Except there was barely any room to move in there. Claustrophobia looms for my little guy, methinks. So we decided to pack up the bed and make the room his properly. Our ulterior motive (aha! you're not the altruistic parents you claim to be, you say. No, of course not. You're probably not either! NER...) was to free up the toy crap that's invaded our lounge room. Riley's face was a treat once the area was clear was priceless. You could see his mind working: The scary amount of dead flies and dust bunnies have, at last disappeared! I don't have to be oh, so ironic! by quoting Hamlet's line "I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space" anymore! He'll enjoy it once he's better. He's just puked on me for the third time this morning. You can probably inhale the vomit fumes from where you're reading? No? Lucky you.