De-Cluttering my Daughter's Desk

I am sitting at my daughter's desk, attempting to cure her computer of a nasty virus. There is a lot of waiting involved in this task, as the computer chugs through virus scans and multiples re-boots. My daughter is much like her father, filing things by the 'pile' method. Her desk is littered with a diverse collection of objects: fish food, eyeglass cleaner, three vampire books, lip gloss, homework that was due three months ago, a card from a board game, a scattering of markers, some of which actually have lids. It is next too impossible for me to sit here and not do something about this. My mind automatically sorts and categorizes: recycle, garbage, belongs elsewhere, needs repair. Perhaps I have read one too many books about de-cluttering. I begin to make piles. I throw out the gum wrappers, take the empty milk glass to the kitchen. By the time I have fixed her computer, I will have cleared her desk, too. "Thanks, mom!" she'll say and give me a hug. She'll have a fresh glass of milk in her hand that she'll set down on the freshly cleaned surface. She'll grab a scrap of paper for making notes. She may even pull a half-dead marker out of the trash. And so it goes. A symbiotic relationship, no?