“Slave mart calling. We need two boys,” the neighbor kid chanted as he leaned over the wall to watch my guys shovel dirt on yet another day of summer vacation.
I resembled that statement. The guys had to pitch in and help the two summers we worked to expand our Michigan basement to a full basement. The project meant a lot of work, we all knew that — but I still resented the remark.
I did not consider the work ‘slavery’ but simply living out an unwritten rule ingrained in me by my parents: All those under their roof, accepting their food and shelter would work first and play later — and everyone helps with the work.
No one said, “you can go play as soon as you finish your chores.” We just knew it. I thought everyone knew that rule. So while learning to write friendly letters in sixth-grade, I wrote one to my cousin inviting her to visit, promising, “We will go play as soon as we finish the dishes and housework.”
That sentence caught my teacher’s eye. She singled it out to read to the other children as a good example. It took me years to figure out ‘why’ she did that because I assumed everyone knew that chores always came before sitting down to read a book or going off to play.
As a parent, I quickly discovered otherwise. The call to “Come do the dishes” frequently generates the response, “Hold on while I finish this game.”
Not my favorite response to hear.
The rule came back to mind a couple weeks ago when our summer plans suddenly included hosting granddaughters and their single father for a few weeks this summer.
Hey! I like company, but I do agree with Ben Franklin who said that house guests are like fish — they both stink after three days.
After three days, my incentive to host evaporates — and I do not consider it slavery or bad manners to expect help from any adult or children hanging around that long.
Helping out benefits everyone — just as digging that huge hole under our house benefited our energetic teenager and his brothers. Yes, we deprived the boys of the privilege of whiling away their summer vacation lifting weights to build up their muscles. We kept them occupied swinging the pick-ax, thrusting a shovel into the earth and swinging it around to toss dirt up onto the dirt elevator. Hauling cinder blocks to build a supporting wall will never rank high at the local gyms, but it did build muscles, a sense of pride and satisfaction at completing a project.
And the less than idyllic summer worked wonders for the teen’s muscles, his coordination and male bonding with his father. Plus, in the fall his coach praised his physical improvement.
So when I heard of our summer visitors, I tapped into my childhood history and three decades of parenting. I knew what to do. We had folks coming to stay. The old folks at home can use all the help they can get before hauling kids off to summer fun events. I stepped back from the stove, the mop bucket and the wash machine. My retired husband’s promise of a freshly painted exterior by fall suddenly had many hands to help him reach that goal.
Saturday I began working on a promised quilt with the recipient right there to help me plan, cut and sew.
Monday they began power washing the house.
Thursday, the crew left early to go pick blueberries. By the time I walked in after work, we had our supply of berries in the freezer for the next year and the children and their father were working on a fresh blueberry pie.
It’s not a trip to Disney’s Frontierland, just real life and hopefully building good memories of feats accomplished, skills learned and insights into a few more cooking and sewing techniques to sustain them as they quickly approach adulthood.
(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. E-mail her at joanh@everybody.org.)