Not-So-Very-Wordless Wednesday: The Six-Year-Old Gets a Planner
(Normally I wouldn’t subject you to so very many words on a Wednesday, but I haven’t had a chance to post yet this week, and the words, they just came pouring out.)
A side product of clearing out my office is that The Six-Year-Old now has an office as well. I can’t decide whether I adore the planner, the mini-globe, or the line of ducks more. My girl’s ready for cubicleville! (Photo: Shala Howell)
Regular readers know we’re in the midst of clearing out the house here at Caterpickles Central. Typically, I do much smaller scale decluttering bouts in which I tackle just a corner of the house (say, the top of a dresser, a closet or a desk) and call it a day — for three months. But this year, I’m being a bit more aggressive. Every room in my house is getting a thorough make-over. Now.
This week’s target is my office. In the process of clearing it out, I came across a dozen or so planners from those pre-digital days of paper task management. Ah, the nineties.
Anyway, as I was ripping out the pages from inside my old DayTimer binder for shredding, The Six-Year-Old wandered in.
The Six-Year-Old, appalled: “Mommyo, why are you doing that?”
Mommyo, practically: “I don’t need it anymore.”
The Six-Year-Old: “But you’ll forget all of it.”
Mommyo, cheerfully: “That’s ok. I don’t need to do any of these things again.”
The Six-Year-Old: “But don’t you want to remember them?”
Mommyo, cold-heartedly: “Nope.”
The Six-Year-Old, acquisitively: “Can I have the binder? I’ve got a use for that.”
Turns out certain fundamental facts about me haven’t really changed over the years. Specifically, the fact that in a burst of enthusiasm over getting really organized, I tend to buy more stuff than I actually need to get the job done. In this case, I had acquired many more supplies to fit my old Day-Timer than I actually used, so with the exception of properly dated pages, I was able to outfit The Six-Year-Old with a pretty impressive looking planner within just a few minutes.
She adores it. Every morning she comes downstairs clutching it to her chest. She plops down on the couch next to me, and opens it up to write down her goal for the day.
Her current goal:
(Photo: Shala Howell)
Like Winnie-the-Pooh, The Six-Year-Old occasionally suffers from wobbly spelling, so I’ll translate: “Get rid of Scar [from the Lion King] and Scar’s hyenas.”
I just hope she can get it done before dinner. I would hate to serve carrion AGAIN.
My favorite Wordless Wednesday (so far) this week:
- Wordless Wednesday- A Day at the Beach (wagthedoguk.com)
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