Deranged Mother orders son to spit on all his possessions!

Get this. My mom told me today that I can't leave the apartment until my room is "clean as a whistle." Whistle. Apparently, my mother doesn't understand how a whistle works.
The only people I know who use a whistle are traffic cops and coaches, and Coach Wolverton can't even speak without spittle flying everywhere, so I'm pretty sure his whistle is awash in saliva, which is really gross. So when I point this out to my mother ("filthy as a whistle" is more accurate), she has another one of her freak-outs.
No wonder I'm always in trouble.