“You can decide whose hands carry it and whose bag holds it,” I said.

They discussed this as though I had proposed a difficult international agreement.

Eventually Caleb chose the bag and Dylan the hands.

I did not intervene when the arrangement worked differently the next morning.

They were allowed small choices that did not change where they belonged.

At bedtime, I found Caleb’s sock under the edge of his pillow again.

Dylan had put three toy cars on the dresser, almost evenly spaced.

I reached to straighten them, then stopped.