Lessons on Cleaning

I grew up in a family of seven. We lived in a very old, small house--like over 100 years old house. We had one teeny, tiny bathroom. Both my parents worked outside the home. There was little to no privacy (I sat on the washing machine while I talked on the phone), and our home looked like it had seven people living in it. At the time I couldn't figure out why the house always seemed to be a mess (I was crazy even then, and this might have something to do with why I am crazy now, but that is another topic for another day), but as a SAHM of 4, I now know why! My parents were always trying to figure out how to get us to form good habits; among other things, we had a chore wheel for most of my growing up years. Last night instead of sleeping, I tossed and turned in my bed and thought about how it is probably time to set up our own chore wheel and start giving the kids an allowance. This brought me back to some of my own childhood lessons on cleaning.

Do what needs to be done

"It's not mine." "I didn't make the mess." I said it, and now I hear my kids saying it. My dad taught us the absurdity of these words one family home evening when he showed us the money that he had hidden under books, toys, and objects all over the house that he had probably asked us to pick up. I remember very clearly the $100 bill he had stuffed in a sneaker that had been abandoned by the stairs for over a week. If you notice something needs to be done, you do it--regardless of why it needs to be done. Of course, we spent the next few weeks picking up everything in the hopes of finding money, but it was too late.

Clean behind the toilet

We switched chores each week, and there was a list of jobs that needed to be done for the room we were responsible over during the week. The bathroom was the dirty-dreaded chore, of course. One day near Christmas, my dad asked me if I had cleaned the bathroom. When I said I had, he asked me to go back and check the list. Then he asked me to go clean better behind the toilet. I think I came back 3-4 times to get it checked off before he finally went in the bathroom with me and showed me what I would have found had I really cleaned behind the toilet. . . cute, sparkly Christmas-ornament fishhook earrings. To this day I am a stickler about really getting down on my knees and getting the floor wiped--all the way around the toilet.

Don't wash hair down the drain

I was the one with the long hair, and occasionally the tub or sink drain would get clogged and daddy dearest was the fix-it man. I guess when I became old enough to be held accountable he decided that it shouldn't be his job to clean those nasty drains. So he called me in, pulled up the plug, and made me remove the long, slimy hair (without gloves). If you have ever done this job, you will never wash hair down the drain again. Now I take a square of toilet paper and wipe the hair out of the sink. It's much, much less icky that way.

These memories have stuck with me for years--and I know their lessons spill over into all other areas of my life. I am thankful for goodly parents who took the time to teach me how to work and to be responsible. I just realized that all of these stories are about my dad. My mom is pretty great as well, but she is the first to point out what a good guy my dad is. I'm lucky to have both of them. Yes, I think it's time to make a McGregor chore wheel.