你能打扫一下房间吗,英语作文80字初二
全文共6篇示例，供读者参考
篇1
    Can You Please Clean Your Room?
    Ugh, here we go again. My mom is on another one of her cleaning frenzies. Whenever she gets that look in her eye and that tone in her voice, I know what's coming next. "Sam, can you please clean your room?" she'll ask in that saccharine sweet way that fools no one. We both know it's not really a request.
    I glance over at the current state of my room and inwardly groan. Okay, so maybe it has gotten a little out of hand lately. Clothes are strewn everywhere, books and papers litter every flat surface, and I'm pretty sure there are a few empty soda cans rolling around under my bed. But it's not that bad, is it? This is just how I operate! I have my own organizational system, thank you very much.
    "But mom, I know where everything is!" I try to protest feebly. Big mistake. One arched eyebrow from her is enough to silence me. I know better than to try arguing when she uses that particular mom look.
    With a resigned sigh, I trudge into my room and survey the chaos. Where do I even start? I suppose I should start by making my bed, though I'm not sure why she insists on that. I'm just going to mess it up again tonight when I go to sleep. Seems like a colossal waste of effort if you ask me.
    I half-heartedly throw the blankets and sheets into some semblance of neatness, trying my best to tuck things in and straighten out the comforter. It'll never pass mom's white-glove inspection, but maybe it'll be just good enough to get her off my back.
    Next, I start gathering up the clothes strewn all over. Clean, dirty, who can really tell at this point? I try sniffing them to find out but quickly realize that was a mistake as my nose is assaulted by a musty combination of B.O., laundry detergent, and something that smells vaguely like pizza. Yeah, maybe I should just wash everything to be safe.
    I make a tentative pile of clothes on the floor, wondering if I'm forgetting some hiding spot where I've stashed even more dirty laundry. Eh, if I am, those can wait for another day's cleaning endeavors. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all.
    The desk is next, and it might just be ground zero for this whole operation. Textbooks, notebooks, loose papers, pens, pencils, and an entirely separateLayer of Shmutz that I can't even begin to identify. I start shoving things into piles – one for school materials, one for miscellaneous junk that I'll undoubtedly just end up stuffing into a drawer and forgetting about.
    As I'm sorting through the papers, I stumble across an old math test with a huge red F scrawled across the top. Ah yes, this would be a remnant from my Salad Days of underachievement. Rather than dwell on that particularly ignoble time in my academic career, I quickly shove it to the bottom of the school pile. Out of sight, out of mind.
    A few hours later, I've made my way around the rest of the room. The floors have been vacuumed (though I missed that giant dust bunny under my dresser), the shelves dusted, a
nd the windows thrown open to let in some fresh air. It's not perfect by any means, but it's marginally better than it was. I'll take what I can get.
    As I stand back and admire my handiwork, I can already feel the room starting to slip back into its usual entropic state. A few t-shirts get lazily tossed towards the clothes pile, a snack wrapper goes skittering under the bed, and suddenly it's like the battle against Order and Cleanliness has already been lost.
sort of in order
    But for this brief, shining moment, I can at least take some pride in kay, fine, not really well done but at least kind of almost partially done. That's got to count for something, right? I can't wait to show m—
    "Sam! What is this??" My mom's scandalized voice rings out from the doorway. She's holding up a grimy sock she must have found under the dresser and looking at me with a mixture of disappointment and disgust.
    ...Maybe I should just start over from the beginning.
篇2
    Could You Tidy Up the Room?
    As a student, the constant battle between organization and chaos is an ever-present reality. My room often becomes a battlefield, with books, clothes, and miscellaneous items strewn about like casualties of war. It's a struggle to maintain order amidst the whirlwind of assignments, extracurricular activities, and the occasional bout of procrastination.
    Whenever my parents enter my domain, they can't help but express their dismay at the state of affairs. Their eyebrows furrow, and their lips purse as they survey the landscape of clutter. "Could you tidy up the room?" they ask, their voices laced with a mix of exasperation and hope.

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