“We know Florence Foresti’s slapstick: being a parent means waking up at night and walking barefoot on a Lego.
We could add: being a parent is wallowing with your legs in an inflatable horse, sliding in a puddle of paint, rolling on marbles, tripping over Batman.
The father is often seized with dread at the sight of his offspring’s room: one simply cannot walk in this room because of the mess (to be polite).
The child likes to accumulate, it is his nature as a child. When he goes to the park, he stuffs his pockets with chestnuts, pine cones and other foliage which will end up molding under the dresser. Above all, the bedroom is the den of toys. Importantly, toys are an integral part of the educational process.
But our children have too much, far too much, because of the consumerism and the publicity that is leading the world to ruin.
Christmas, birthdays, spoiling grandparents, uncle-tatas and adorable buddies who offer stuff he’ll use once and who eat up square meters of living space and when you see the price per square meter, help .
After a while, you have to create a vacuum. Problem: the child cherishes all his possessions like treasures.
We try the classic argument.
“You know, me, at your age, I played with a piece of cardboard and a string. “
A lie passed down from generation to generation to make kids feel guilty. Mine is not fooled. We then try the philosophical approach.
“Are you sure you need all of this, son?” Are we not prisoners of our material goods? “
It works average. We have never seen a child spontaneously decreasing.
We then try the social approach.
“We could also donate the old toys. “
The son’s face crumbles into a grin of fury and incomprehension. We have never seen a child spontaneously advocating the redistribution of wealth.
Since we are in a capitalist system, we are trying the flea market:
“Pick out toys that you don’t use anymore, you will sell them at garage sales and it will make you money to buy Pokémon cards.” “
It works.
In video: 4 tips for tidying up his room
But there are all the unsaleable, non-donable crap that the child categorically refuses to throw away. And that we throw in his back, for
simple questions of survival (who can live with the dozens of rotten pottery brought back from school?). If you read these lines later, son, I admit, I threw your little red “made in China” motorcycle in the trash without your approval. It was for your own good.
And now your room is tidy. We can move around and you can better enjoy your toys, since you can find them.
The father contemplates the work done and the space freed up: this is a healthy environment for a toddler. The Child approves and promises that he
will make an effort to tidy up behind him.
And ten minutes later, we step on a Lego. “
Julien Blanc-Gras