Here’s the summary: put people in an empty room, and they prefer to give themselves electric shocks instead of being alone with their thoughts for six minutes.  

I told my younger son about this, and he said, “I can do it.” Even as I type this, he’s sitting in the bathroom, staring at the walls while the kitchen timer ticks down (and no, I did not give him any D batteries). It was only after I put him in there that I realized I had essentially given him a time-out. 

For years I’ve been against using writing as a consequence (see: Bart at the chalkboard at the beginning of The Simpsons), or using exercise as punishment (Drop and give me twenty!) because it teaches kids to associate these activities with shame and trouble. Now I’m wondering if the time-out has effectively poisoned thinking, quietness, and stillness. 

If so: Oh shit.

For the record, the kitchen timer just went off. I opened the bathroom door to find my son lying on the floor. “That felt like an hour,” he said. Now he’s dorking around the kitchen, loudly making up for lost time, and I am no longer alone with my thoughts, and can’t think of a way to end this post. Maybe it’s time for a twelve minute challenge.