We just spent the past hour cleaning our bedroom. We haven’t done this in a while — not thoroughly. It turns out that at some point, when we were not looking, possibly one day while we were making up reasons to go to Target, a dust storm blew through our room. Actually, maybe it happened more than once. Maybe every time we’ve gone anywhere. So, we start sifting through the stuff in our room — piles of clothes that were only worn for a short time and were too clean for the hamper but too dirty to be put away, books and magazines and receipts on and beside the bedside tables — and we find dust. SO much dust. As we were cleaning, my eyes started to feel prickly, and our noses started to run. We didn’t realize we are such disgusting people.