Building Empires with Dishes and Other Chores

           My mom loved to iron when she was a girl.  She grew up in a day before permanent press and I was still in school when the iron didn’t seem so important as during the years prior.  

I don’t know why my mom loved ironing – although it had gone from “love” to “I don’t mind” over the years.  I loathe ironing.  Really HATE it in fact.  I always end up burning myself.  Whatever I’m ironing ends up with at least two creases where they needn’t be.  Other than the ironing part, I don’t mind laundry – sorting, washing, drying and folding. I don’t especially enjoy putting clothes away. 

            When I was younger my mom taught Patrick and I how to do the “dishing” chore.  We first learned to dry and then put away and then she taught us how to wash by hand and finally unloading and loading the dishwasher.  I seemed to make dishes a bigger chore for my mom before I learned the “put away” step.  Instead of grouping dishes together I would create elaborate displays – often running out of table room before my masterpiece had finished.  NOBODY liked putting dishes away after I had dried them. 

certainly not the greatest picture but to provide a visual 
-though not as elaborate as my from childhood

            My least favorite chore is vacuuming or sweeping the floor.  They don’t call it “chore” for nothing.  Vacuum refuses to suck or gets clogged up.  There is always a wrestling match involved.  The vacuum frustrates me.  It seems the heavier they are the better they are at doing their job.  And that wears me out.

Sweeping into the dustpan – forget it.  There is always a trail.  ALWAYS.  And after I mop I have loosened up even more stuff to sweep.  At least mops, brooms and vacuum cleaners have evolved over the years.  

Even irons.  Oh, what a joy it must have been to be a pioneer!

YW Service Scavenger Hunt

                As I was doing dishes this morning I was reminded of a memory from the first ward I had lived in as a wife and mother.  The YW president had called me earlier that week to see if I would allow a team of young women into my house to do various service projects for us: dishes, read to a child, change a diaper, fold laundry, etc.  There was even a space for miscellaneous chores. 

          I was thrilled to have someone else do chores as it never did become a regular thing with my boys.  Jenna was running around at the time, but still in diapers – which someone was able to change just before they left.  Pooey diapers were worth more than just wet diapers but Jenna’s diaper had not been messed in and so the girls didn’t get all the points they were hoping for.

          One did dishes the way her mother had taught her to and seemed to feel honored about getting to wash our dishes as though we were celebrities or something.  Whatever moves your motor, girl.

 

          I remember one girl had read to Jenna and we had given a girl a miscellaneous chore.  I had her write letters that my husband and I would send out to persons who had multiple properties.  She wasn’t comfortable with her cursive as she had printed them.  No big deal.  I think she had printed 15 before the girls left or I had given another task.  I don’t know how many points the team had ended up with but had admired their willingness and was very appreciative for their efforts.  Good memory.