manipulation of the boy

M and I work well together. I think that is largely because we know each other better than we know ourselves most of the time.

Last weekend, I headed out to the garage to work on the sunroom/garage door, that with the dried-on masking tape. M came out to help me with the tall parts, and then while I finished up the rest of the door, he headed over and roughly cleaned the windows in the big garage door. While we worked, we talked about how the garage really needed work. A lot. We threw stuff out there while we were moving in, and it is dirty in the way of garages, plus dirty in the way of gardening tools and accessories. The only thing we've done out there, ever, to improve the appearance/functionality is when my parents came down and hauled away the empty boxes and some miscellaneous large trash. (Free dump day.) It was hard to walk through, there being barely a path. The thing is, though, most of it is LARGE stuff, and then covered in run-of-the-mill trash (bubble wrap, some crumpled wrapping paper, remnants of wallpaper, empty plastic bags, etc) so it's not like it is going to be impossible to get it done. I mean, it's the garage. It doesn't need to be particularly clean or organized. So M began poking about, and gave up after about five minutes, and said, "I can't stand it. It's TOO DIRTY out here and it's freaking me out!" And I smiled to myself, because isn't it cute that a place can be too dirty for a boy? Boys are made of mud and sticks and bugs!

So tonight, while M finished up the evening's mowing, I walked out and started attacking the mess with a cheapo broom, purchased at Big Lots for this very purpose. (I was NOT about to use my kitchen broom out there!) I started off by sweeping all trash to the edge, and then cleared a space for the garden tool rack that M purchased at the flea market. It's a little heavy, so I asked him to move it against the wall just after he finished mowing. He complied, but gave me a Look--"do I look like I want to work on the garage right now?" And, I ignored him, and kept working. He hovered, not doing anything at first, just watching me work. I asked him for his opinion on something. He answered... and then he moved a bucket. After a few minutes, he was moving things to the edges and throwing away the junk. I kept sweeping and sorting and stacking... smugly. I pointed out that the little bit of work that we had done so far was a Major Improvement. He agreed, and started talking about places to store his tools. And then he said it.. what I had been waiting for. "I think I'll make cleaning the garage my project for tomorrow night. This isn't too bad!"

So I put my broom down, smiled again, and headed back inside. Well, after I finished what I was doing and cleaned up my mess. I did tell him what I had done, though.. I really did start on it because I knew he needed help getting going, but then he would be okay. It was more than a little overwhelming to begin with, but now it looks completely manageable, and he is fine with working on it--and could appreciate what I had done. I am much better at getting things like that started than he is, but once it's going, he is good at picking up and going forth speedily.

A couple of people have made comments about how much time we spend working on the house. And, we do spend a lot of time doing stuff. However, I feel, in the interest of full disclosure, that I should tell you that we really don't spend nearly as much time working on this as we should. I just don't write about it when we hang around all weekend eating bon-bons and watching television. ;) But if you would like to continue thinking that we are super-motivated all the time.. go right ahead; I won't stop you.