There's only one reason I'm glad that my daughters are sloppy.
Evidence.
If my daughters had been neatnicks, they wouldn't have been caught doing half of the things they've been grounded for.
Sure, it's painful to walk by those rooms everyday and see that distinctive mix of clothing, thongs, coffee cups and pharmacy bags on the floor, but just imagine the goldmine of evidence that lies within. You just have to be a quasi-dumpster-diver to dig in and find it.
But, oh, the sense of triumph when you hit paydirt!
