WALL MINIMALIST

We had been living in our new house for over a year and yet whenever I walk by my son Alex's room, I still see moving boxes stacked in the corner.

“When are you going to finish unpacking?” I asked for the hundredth time.

Alex shrugged his shoulders while he worked at his computer. “I don't seem to be missing anything I need.” he answered.

“So these boxes can be thrown out?” I said hopefully.

“No.” He stopped working and turned around to look at the boxes I was standing next to. “I just need to go though them.”

“If you do it now I can help you.” I said. The hope in my voice was unavoidable.

Alex sighed and came over. “I only have about five minutes before I have to get back to work.”

I couldn't believe my good luck. “No problem!” I cried as I ripped open the tape on the first box.

“But I don't need any help.” he said as he showed me to the door.

I stood outside the closed door and could hear him working on unpacking. Twenty minutes later he called me to come back in. “Finished!” he said as I saw two boxes tapped shut and waiting in the middle of him room while a garbage bag, filled to overflowing, was next to it. “Garbage, attic.” he said pointing to the two piles.

I quickly looked at the garbage bag with posters sticking out of the top. “You don't want to hang these up?” I asked as I started to pull one out.

“Nope.” he said pushing it back into the bag. “I think I'm past the poster stage.”

I looked at his bare walls and clapped my hands together gleefully. “Do you want to go out and look for some wall art?” I asked.

“Wall art?”

“You know, a painting or two.” I said as I moved around his room mentality taking in the size of frames we should be looking for.

“Paintings of what?” he asked.

“Whatever you want.” I was beginning to get even more excited, wondering what his grown up room was going to look like. “What would you call your style?” I asked. “Are you more interested in modernism, impressionism or maybe even surrealism?” I suggested. '“My tastes are more towards Impressionists but, I'm completely open to anything you're interested in.”

Alex thought about it for a moment, looking around his crowded room. “I'm going to say minimalist.” he said.

I looked at all his guitars, computers, books and a ton of other stuff all over his room. “Are you kidding me, you're the exact opposite of a minimalist!” I cried. “You're closer to a guitar and computer hoarder!”

“But I'm going with that for my walls.” he said as he looked back at his computer. “I really have to get back to work.” he said, “My project is due at the end of the week.”

“We can go out this weekend.” I cried as he gently steered me to his door. “You might be surprised with what we find.”

“I've decided I'm a wall minimalist, Mom.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before slowly closing the door in my face.

“How about a mirror?” I called out, loud enough for him to hear me through the closed door. “Everyone needs a mirror!” I cried.

“I use the one in the bathroom.” he called back.

“But that only let you see from the waist up.” I called back.

“I can look down and see the rest of me.” he answered.

That stopped me for a moment. How could anyone not need a full length mirror?

It was moments like these that once again reminded me that I lived in a house with three guys. I was never going to understand how their minds worked.

I walked away shaking my head. “Wall minimalist.” I mumbled to myself. But I had to laugh at how much I loved his quick witted mind.