The other day I received a FaceTime call from my two-and-a-half year old granddaughter (with the help of her mother, my daughter).
I was in my office and offered to show her around the office.
My daughter loved the nostalgic mementos on the shelves and walls. My granddaughter marveled at how messy my desk was. She jumped at the suggestion that she could come with me one day and help me clean up.
(My daughter warned that my granddaughter’s filing abilities may be limited.)
When we ended the call, I took a look around and smiled.
I had been comfortable with the piles of paper on my desk. But, through the eyes of my granddaughter, I am taking another look.