Beneath the Wraps

             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 seeme...

                 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.           O...