Last week was our first Spring Break in years that we didn’t travel (I’m not quite ready — to manage luggage, among other things, would be difficult for me still). So, we did something super fun at home! We organized the entire house!! Yes, the boys groaned. And then groaned some more. But to their credit, after a few days they got into it and made very good little helpers.
After days of straightening closets, emptying cabinets, piling up unwanted books, toys, and a myriad of other belongings to give away, I sat back and thought, “Now that’s more like it. Simple. Clean. Organized. Yes. I believe I can actually breathe better.”
So yesterday, while enjoying my afternoon cuppa, my younger son comes downstairs declaring I’m just gonna love what he’s done.
What is it, I wonder? Was there something left unorganized? Some little rat’s nest somewhere he has taken the initiative to fix without being asked? No. All of his dresser drawers, his closet, and even under his bed and bathroom sink were immaculate the last time I looked.
Lost in thought, I look up, and this is what I see before me:
“Why are you wearing all of those shirts? Wait…. how many shirts do you have on?”
He counts 1, 2, 3, 4…. 18 shirts. I’m baffled. Why would one do such a thing? Half of those shirts were neatly folded, the other half perfectly hung, all hangers facing the same direction, all organized by type — short sleeve, collared, play shirt, school shirt, etc….
“Again, why are you wearing all of those… 18 shirts?” Secretly, I’m wondering, who does this? And why does he look so pleased with himself?
To which he responds, with a shrug of his shoulders, “Just because. Don’t you love it?!!?” Huge smile.
And in that instant, how could I not? In his kooky display and lighthearted, ‘what’s the big deal?‘ attitude, how could I not love the simplicity of the act? The simplicity of the child.
He did it because it was fun. Because he felt like it. It wasn’t hurting anyone, it was goofy, and more than anything, it was so, totally him.
Sure, I like a neat house. Okay, I love a neat house. But to this one simple act, I say, “Thank you, son.” Thank you for reminding my very left-brained self that I don’t always need to think through life in such a calculated way. Life is for living. And if wearing 18 shirts makes him happy, really, what’s the big deal?
Alright folks, that’s all for today…. Gotta run upstairs and make sure they’re all put away nicely.
Naw, not really. I Trust that they are.
(Hey, and if not — who cares, right? Okay, seriously, I gotta go….)
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