Every Tuesday at 5:00pm, there is a trail of toys in my house that stretches from the front door all the way to the bedroom where my grandson sleeps when we keep him two days a week. I pick up each toy, one by one, and think of the fun (or the frustration) he had before it was abandoned there on the floor. As I pick up the ball, I remember the mischievous smile he had when he threw it in the house after I told him not too. I remember the tears that fell when I took the ball away and how quickly the smile returned when I gave it back to him 10 minutes later! I make my way to his room with an armload of toys, but he’s not there. Every Thursday at 9:00am, he’s back. There is no trail of toys to follow, but he knows the way to his room. Play commences and toys yet again follow him wherever he goes. After he leaves at 5:00pm, there is a trail of toys from his room all the way to the front door. I pick them up, put them away, but he’s not there. Now here’s the controversy: Sometimes my husband will say “We should make him pick up his toys before he leaves” and I’ll say “but where’s the fun in that!”
