My room is a pit and apparently I'm supposed to clean it before tomorrow when people come over.
Mom: Madeleine, you're room is awful. You wouldn't be able to get out if there was a fire.
Me: (stares blankly ahead)
Mom: It's true! You'd trip and fall on this and hit your head right on this corner.
Me: I love you, Mom.

Ah, the rentals...