"What do you mean you want me to clean my room?"

Her grandmother raised one eyebrow. "This isn't a hotel. There aren't any maids here to do it for you. As long as you stay here with me, you have to clean your room."

Diana scowled. "I mean, what do you mean my room's dirty? Did you look at it?"

Grandma Berrigan snorted at her granddaughter. "I just asked you if you cleaned your room this week, and you said no."

"Yeah, well, I didn't mess it up in the first place," she shot back, staring at the ceiling in frustration. "Take a look if you don't believe me!"

Grandma Berrigan marched across the living room and up the stairs. Diana followed her to the bedroom door and leaned on the threshold as her grandmother looked around at the neat lines of knick knacks and the clothes put away carefully in the closet. Diana explained, "If you let the maids put everything away, you spend hours and hours looking for it."

"You made your point." Her grandmother pursed her lips, then smiled. "You're not spoiled. You still have to make your bed."

Diana gave her a put upon sigh. "Fine."