There is a classic psych experiment done by Walter Mischel starting in the late 1960s, that asked little kids, three and four years old, to sit in a room with a marshmallow and not eat it. If they could avoid eating it for the allotted time, on the order of 20 minutes, they would be given two, count 'em, two marshmallows. Some could, some couldn't. The kids in the original study have been tracked and those who could earn more, stay married longer, take fewer drugs, etc., all things you would associate with being able to delay gratification. For a while Mischel and subsequent researchers thought the delayed gratification trait was inherent, genetic, developmental, whatever, but eventually shifted to believe it can be taught. Those kids who, at this early age, whether in school, by their parents, or on their own, had learned coping mechanisms for delaying gratification, were able to pass the test, so to speak. Some hid from the marshmallow. Some ignored it. Some stared at it and talked to it. Different kids had different strategies.
On the walk from the driveway to the door of our apartment building, Miriam and I pass a gravel lawn, a large expanse for overflow parking surrounding the avocado tree. It is a litter box for neighborhood raccoons and cats and I don't like her to play in the rocks. She likes to walk more and more and I usually let her walk from the car to the house on her own, particularly if I am carrying something. As we passed today, she stopped at the edge of the gravel and looked at it, bent her knees a little bit and froze. After a moment she shook her head no and grunted, very slightly, as if she had heard me say "No Miriam, the rocks are not for touching," and she was nodding sympathetically, as she is apt to do when told No. Then she straightened up, kept walking, and didn't look back.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: totally plain omelet
lunch: pasta with bacon and chickpeas
dinner: roast chicken and pasta
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