You go inside your home when your parents decide to interrupt you.
"Son," your father says, "We need someone to do us a favor, if you wish."
"I don't think I can say no, can I?"
"Not really," dad grimaces, "Just a little bit of a clean-up job."
"Look, I already cleaned my room before."
"Yes yes, but that's not the room I'm referring to," making a suggestion with a finger downwards.
"The basement?" You exclaim.
"Just today, dear," your mother says quietly. You know about the basement. Hasn't been touched in years. No one ever uses it aside from the day you moved in. The movers put a whole bunch of boxes there but no one bothered going down. They're usually filled with items you hardly use anyway.
"But it must be filled with dust by now... and no one ever goes there... shouldn't you have some professionals handle there? It must be a huge mess."
"Just check downstairs... clean what you have to, that's all we ask." Dad is trying to sound nice this time.
"Alright, I'll check," you shake your head, as you go over to the basement door to head downstairs.