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| Orange Show, Houston TX |
Evening sniffling last night. Our youngest son is struggling
with a large pile of homework including, among other things, seven pages of his own
prose to type up for the next day.
“Seven pages? What? Do you even know how to type?” I’m not too happy either given the particular
timing of this conversation, minutes before his usual bedtime.
“Well, we’ve
been learning how to type at school but I am the slowest.” We problem solve. I predict his typing will get much
faster in no time, especially since he plays the piano. For now, we settle on him planning to do what he can and
writing a note to the teacher explaining that he will need more time to
finish his typing. My son is upset that
he will miss recess for not turning in all his homework and I empathize. He
goes back to his room, sniffle-less but in a grey mood.
Half an hour later, an exuberant 9 year old knocks at my
door: “Mom!!!! I’m going to FINISH this! I only have 2 more pages to type!” I congratulate him for being a faster typist
than he thought. He goes on giddily: “You know what helped me mom? It was
thinking about this person who was blind, deaf and mute!” I ask if he means Hellen
Keller? “Yes, her! Also... I was thinking
about Marshall, the dog, who visited my school two days before Thanksgiving. Do you know that he almost
died three times? His leg got infected and was amputated, his cheek has a hole the size of a
tennis ball. Now Marshall helps people. He is like a psychiatrist-dog. I petted him, he is pretty cute.”
He is on a roll: “Yes, and
also, you know those people who used to rule here….the British? They were
practically defeated with sticks….so, I can surely do my homework with my bare
hands!”
“Wow, so you got
inspired by Hellen Keller, Marshall the Dog and the Revolutionary War and it
helped you do your homework? I am so impressed by how you think!” I move on from wondering about what kind of Psychiatry is practiced by
Marshall The Dog, squelch the worry I have about the quality of my son’s
history lessons and look at my now happy
boy, who is suddenly reminding me of the hero of My Life as a Dog, except far more euphoric about his homemade cognitive reframing.
Till Later,
Anne
PS: There is a Marshall the Dog:
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