I
promise myself that I will not succumb to my son’s description of me as a
nagger. At least not right away. So I consciously decide not to say a word
about his unpacking.
At
10:30 Saturday night, my son arrives home, neatly packed with one large
duffel bag, one smaller one, and a backpack.
He drops his stuff in the living room.
SUNDAY: Day 1
I
wake up late Sunday morning and nothing has changed, except the bags are now
open.
Sunday
Alexander has a friend over, so without my asking, he moves everything to his
small bedroom. He is now living out of
his suitcases. By Monday morning nothing
has changed.
Some
progress is made by Monday evening. Two dress shirts have been removed and actually
hung up. A pair of shorts is unpacked,
but only gets as far as his chair. One tie makes it to the floor, on top of a
pair of sandals.
TUESDAY:
Day 3
This
morning I see that that his chair has accumulated some additional clothing: a pair of khakis and and a pair of jeans.
Alexander
finally gets up around 11. He has a
leisurely breakfast while watching Silver
Linings Playbook, again.
And then it
happens. All on its own. No prodding from me. Alexander decides it’s time. He unpacks everything, and then very
reluctantly lets me take a final photo of him with his unpacked bag.
Three days. Not
bad at all. Hey, maybe this strategy of
not-reminding could work.
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