I've been trying to get Evan to clean his room for, I don't know, months and months. He says he won't do it, he says it's his room and he knows where everything is. It's disgusting, though. Wrappers strewn about, an old science project growing mold in a petri dish. The thing that really irks me is that, for some reason, he can't keep a fitted sheet on his bed. The boy can work a computer, he can do all kinds of complex tasks but he seems to not be able to stretch some elastic over the corner of a bed. I tried to speak his language. I pleaded, can you pretend that the bed is an enemy soldier, and the fitted sheet is your weapon, and if you encase your enemy in the sheet you will win the battle?
Today he wanted to go to Games Workshop and I told him not until he cleaned his room. It worked. He cleaned for a few hours and I saw some real results. Observe:
Parenting, it is the art of threats and bribes.