If you love Blog Challenges as much as I do..or if you are just thinking of trying a challenge…Suzanne Gunter McClendon‘s Back Where I Come From Challenge is a great one. It is “loosely based” on the Kenny Chesney song of the same name and lasts for a month.
You probably wouldn’t want to leap in now as it is already three weeks in, unless of course, you are as nuts as I am and do all 22 past posts at once to catch up. Head on over to Suzanne’s page and check out the other participants and their posts. You will learn a lot about who they are just by reading about where they came from.
Day 22: Did you have chores when you were a kid? What were they? What did you think about having chores? What was your least favorite chore? Is it still?
Starting at the age of three or so, we all had to make up our beds and put away our clothing in the proper drawers after mother washed them. We had to make sure all of our toys were put away into toy chests, books back onto bookshelves before we were allowed to eat dinner. (that would be lunch to normal, Non-Southern people).
By the age of five, I also had to dry the dishes from each meal and sweep the kitchen floor after each meal. My older brother washed the dishes after each meal.
Upon entering school, I must have reached a chores milestone as I also had to strip the linens from mine and my brother’s beds once a week and take them down to the laundry room. Once there, it was my job to sort clothing into piles of colored and white items.
Every Spring and Summer, it was my job to weed the flower beds as well.
By the age of ten, I was cooking meals for my family as Mother went back to work. I was also giving daily care to my baby sister. One can only assume I was cheaper at zero pay than a babysitter would have been.
When I was little, I thought everyone had chores to do and thought nothing of them except for how long it was going to take. It never occurred to me that we had more than the average kids on our block.
It was when the cooking of meals was added to my ever-growing list that I realized we were just a bit different.
For one thing, my Mother worked at a job in Washington, DC.
And I didn’t know another kid my age who was even allowed into the kitchen, much less cooking for five people every day.
Out of all of my chores though, the only one I actually hated was washing or drying the dishes. My older brother derived great delight from ordering me around, and each time we were both at that kitchen sink he would start. “you aren’t doing that right” “How come you are too stupid to dry a dish right?” “Do it THIS way!”…….and Mother, on passing through the room, never stopped him.
I still hate washing dishes. It still is done by hand here. We do not own and have no space for a dishwasher. So, I wash them by hand. I do rebel a bit. I don’t dry them, but let time, gravity and air take care of that for me. So, if you ever come to visit me, please do not be offended by the full sink or the full dishrack. I am rebelling against my brother.