Strange Mornings －奇妙な朝－

My eight year old son was having difficulty getting ready for school in time in the mornings.  He tended to get distracted, especially by books.  When he was supposed to be brushing his teeth, we would find him lying on the floor, reading a book.  When he was supposed to be putting things into his school bag, we would find him leaning against a wall, flicking through manga. 

For a while we tried just telling him off for getting distracted, but the problem persisted.  So I came up with a solution.  I asked him what book or manga he wanted to read, and then left it by the front door.  If he could brush his teeth, prepare his school bag, put his shoes on and so on, then he could start reading his book.  This worked so well that soon he was ready 25 minutes before he had to leave for school, and was sitting quietly by the door, reading his favourite book. 

But it was summer, and there is no air conditioner at the front door.  It was very hot there.  So we wanted to let him read a book in the living room.  But we also wanted him to have his shoes on, so that he was totally ready to go to school.  Therefore I let him put his shoes on and pick up his book at the front door.  Then I laid some newspaper on the floor in front of our sofa in the living room.  Then I picked my son up and carried him into the living room.  He could then sit on the sofa without worrying about his outdoor shoes touching the floor. 

My wife later came up with a refinement to this procedure.  She has gotten rid of the need for newspapers on the floor.  She bought two shower caps, designed to be worn over your hair when you take a shower.  She puts these over my son’s shoes, allowing him to walk around inside our house with his outdoor shoes on underneath.  He then only needs to take the shower caps off before he leaves for school in the morning. 

Our mornings are now regularly accompanied by the sound of swishing plastic as my son enters the living room with his book.  He puts me in mind of a robot walking through our house. 

I can’t decide.  Are we very clever parents, or quite mad?