When I am upset with my children because they scrawled on the wall with marker, walked on the freshly mopped floor with dirty feet, or failed to keep their room tidy, the story I see is one where they are imps and villains ruining my carefully orchestrated set. I see only my story, and they are messing it up. A truer perspective would see the child as the hero of his own story, placed in my home so I can be his guide and coach, preparing him for his coming of age. If I look at it that way, the walls, floor, and bedroom are not about me, so I have no reason to be offended. I am only seeing the
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