The wonders of avoidance

I can’t remember exactly when it was that I gave up the fight with the lad to keep his room clean. We more or less came to the unspoken agreement that as long as the mess didn’t spill beyond his bedroom’s threshold, I’d quit nagging him. It was like fighting an immutable force of nature and I gave up. Nevertheless, I watched with some amazement and fascination as the floor disappeared, save for a narrow path from the door to his desk. I think he leaped from the desk to his bed. I kept the door closed most of the time.

So with that image in mind, also imagine a lad with an enormous school project due in a few days. He’d been stewing about it all weekend. Beginning a daunting project can be a painful endeavor and the mind searches for legitimate and worthy excuses to void the pain.

After dinner, last evening, as I put the kitchen in order, I heard sounds from overhead that sounded suspiciously like cleaning. I tip-toed upstairs to take a peek. Sure enough, he was tearing into his room with what seemed like a generous amount of pleasure.

I walked into his room and gave him a sympathy hug. “Are you avoiding your project?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Been there, done that,” I said.

It only took about an hour for him to thoroughly clean his room. He worked like a man possessed. By the time he was finished, there wasn’t a speck of anything on the floor, nor was there an item out of place on his desk. I haven’t seen his room look like that since the day I had his carpeting installed and his new desk moved in.

He felt pretty renewed by his new found order and it seemed to give him the equanimity to sit down and begin his project with a complete lack of mental duress. He simply sat down and began.

I composed a thank-you note to his teacher in my mind and sent it off through the aether. She’ll never know, but at least it’s out there. Little does she know that her assignment accomplished a near miracle.