Philosophy: litter

Self-tutoring about a concept kids are taught early: litter. The tutor tells a story.

Often I brought the kids into the woods when they were young. Any non-school day I did so (unless we went somewhere else), because I didn’t want them to be couch potatoes. Rain or shine, summer or winter, we trekked through forest roads and trails.

My favourite trails were always ones seldom traveled by others. I loved to find a trail that only gave hints of its being one, yet led to a new part of the woods almost wild. The trails like that, yet near home, were perhaps best of all – believe it or not, there were a few.

On such a trail one day, when the kids were around 4 and 6, we walked by a plastic water bottle. “Someone littered here,” my older son commented. (His attending school was evident from that remark.)

I thought a moment, then commented, “You’re right, from the simple point of view. However, I don’t think that is litter, because it’s worth money. Someone who picks it up can collect a deposit from it.”

At once, I had to admit to myself that I’d catapulted us to the absurd. My kids looked at me in a way that showed they knew it. We were probably only twenty minutes away, on foot, from someone who would redeem that bottle. Yet, given the seclusion of our location, that was virtually impossible to imagine: somehow, in that reference frame, the return facility didn’t exist at all.

I don’t doubt that one reason my children doubt my sanity today is due to that situation. It happened just 10 minutes from where I’m sitting right now.

I’ve laughed a great deal, writing this post.