Roger Collier

I have a daughter and a son, and I love them adequately and almost equally. Like any parent, I want to raise happy, confident children. To do that, I had to learn a new skill, one that so-called parenting experts fail to mention in their so-called books. I had to learn how to deceive my kids into believing their artwork doesn't go straight in the trash.

Children produce art like cows produce methane -- daily and by the tonne. My daughter, Ella, is in Grade 1 and brings home a painting or drawing from school every other day. So does my son, Jack, who is in junior kindergarten. They also make a craft each week at Sunday school. For example, last Sunday, using only a picture of Moses and several cotton balls, Jack created a picture of Moses with several cotton balls glued to it.

Then there are the masterpieces they churn out at home. Though I try to get them interested in other hobbies, such as vacuuming, they just keep drawing. Every day, Ella thrusts a fresh doodle in my face, and we begin a conversation that typically goes like this:

"Daddy! Look what I drew!"

"Looks good, Ella. Is it a monkey?"

"Nice job on the tail."

It doesn't take long for Jack and Ella's incessant output to accumulate. By Friday, we are buried in paper. The dining room table, the living room floor, the kitchen counter -- all covered in pictures of fairies, Transformers and oddly proportioned relatives. Keeping everything is not an option. We don't have space.

My first attempt at thinning our stockpile of progeny-generated art involved a complex process that I called Throwing It In The Recycling Bin. I didn't even hide it in a cereal box or push it to the bottom. Big mistake. Sloppy execution was my downfall. One Monday, when the bin was out for pick-up, Ella walked by it and did a double take. Then I heard: "HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!"

She was not happy. And finding her creative works on the curb, I suspect, did little for her confidence. Clearly, I needed a better art disposal process. After weeks of trial and error, I discovered the perfect method.

But before I get to that, I want to clarify a few matters. First, I have nothing against art. During my youth, I used to draw all the time. There was nothing I enjoyed more, in fact, except basketball, eating, TV, sleeping, Latin, crocheting, Jenga, napping, socks and looking (at things).

They say that children who participate in the arts do better in other areas of education. A 2006 U.S. report called "Critical Evidence: How the Arts Benefit Student Achievement" found that exposing students to the arts improves their reading, writing and math skills. It also improves their ability to "think," the paper claims, presumably with their "brains."

This report should not be taken lightly. It's top-notch. I glanced at -- and this is not an exaggeration -- two other studies, and this one, without question, contained the nicest pictures. Also, it was commissioned by the Arts Education Partnership and the National Assembly of State Arts Agencies, and it was funded by the National Endowment for the Arts. If you are looking for an unbiased assessment of the educational value of art, surely you will get it from three groups that have the word "arts" in their names.

Because participation in the arts has practical benefits, my wife and I encourage Jack and Ella to paint and draw, despite the ensuing clutter. It warms my heart to know that these activities will help them become substantial contributors to the Canadian economy by 2025. I'm sentimental that way.

The other point I want to make is that deceiving your children sets a poor example, so parents should be extra careful not to get caught when they do it. It helps that children are unaware of the subtle cues indicating someone is lying, such as the use of the phrases "it's true" and "seriously, it's totally true."

Now, back to how to get rid of your kids' art without crushing their spirits. Collect two weeks' worth of the crap (a.k.a. precious mementoes) and stuff it in a big envelope. Tell your children you are sending it to Grandma. After you put the kids to bed, after you read them a book or two, after you tell them you love them and kiss them goodnight, put the envelope in your neighbour's recycling bin.