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It’s common sense I guess. A woman, for example, who likes men who are sensitive new age types, might wonder if a bloke was right for her if he turned up for their date carrying the latest Pig Shooters Monthly.
Similarly, by analysing personal possessions, you can find out what motivates an individual; what they are passionate about; and what type of person they really are.
Recently, I thought I’d try this analysis out on my eldest son. As he is about to head into high school, I thought it might help me understand him better and guide him further on that tricky path through life.It was the end of term, so I decided to evaluate the contents of his school bag, and clean it out at the same time. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.
I started with the outer pocket. There was an envelope, with money in it, which read “Dangerous Australians”.
“Hamish!” I called out down the hall.
“Yes Dad?” (Sound of DS Pokémon playing).
“You didn’t hand in your money for Dangerous Australians!”
“Oh.”
“But didn’t you go?”
“Yeah, I went. It was great. They had this snake that could eat a rat in one gulp.”
“But what did you say to your teacher about the money?”
There’s a pause. “I just told her you forgot to give me the money. She said the school would pay for it, it was a hardship case.”
The next thing that emerges is another undelivered note, this time to Ms Smith, from four weeks ago, explaining Hamish’s absence from school for four days due to a nasty virus. The envelope is crumpled and covered in cheese. Next to it is a screwed up homework sheet, and three cheese snack dip packs - two unopened, one, opened, showing early signs of mould. A puff of mould spores explodes as I lift it out, making me cough. I decide that the unopened snack dips might be OK to go back in the pantry. I add the opened one to the rapidly growing pile of garbage.
Then there is a nice drawing that would look good on my desk - it just needs a week or so under a stack of bricks to be flattened out.
Lastly, I stick my hand into the heart of the bag, its deepest pocket, to see what’s there. I pull out a handful of squashed banana, blended with a mouldy sandwich; a carton of juice which has been slowly leaking, and a half eaten muffin. Mixed into this are three blunt pencils, a 50 cent coin and two school bulletins. Lastly is a hat, with the name “Emma Jenkins” on it.
With my research complete, I began my analysis. It didn’t take long. After jotting down a few observations, I have my conclusions.
As he gets older, Hamish will (a) cut corners wherever humanly possible and (b) not waste his time on stupid stuff, unless he has absolutely no choice. As a guy, I fully approve. This kid is on the right track. And the good news is I haven’t found any weapons, drugs, or nasty text messages. I don’t know if I would want to repeat the exercise with a year 10 student in a few years time, or I might get more than I bargained for.
“Hey Hamish!”
“Yep.”
“Next time, you’re cleaning out your bag OK?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
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