I rode the bus into town this morning, and sat behind a 9 or 10-year-old boy who had spread out his school stuff across two seats. His binder was covered with the inevitable scrawls, stick figures, and cartoons of every 9 or 10-year-old boy ever. And sitting on top, was an essay.
I really couldn’t help but see the first line:
Why I did what I did: I don’t know, I guess I just wanted some clay.
Oh man. I had to know more. Line two:
Why it was so wrong: You surely said do not take the clay from the art room, and I did.
At this point the kid caught me peeking, stared me down (rightfully) and hid his paper, so I’ll never know what happened next.
But I kind of love this. I mean, why? Why did you take the clay from the art room? Well, because I wanted some clay. When you get right down to it, isn’t this really the explanation for pretty much every infraction in society? “What I wanted and what I was told to do conflicted, so I decided to do what I wanted.”