Periodically I decide to go crazy with the random enforcing of unreasonable rules. It happens when the proverbial last straw falls. The last instance of this back-breaking straw involved the dishwasher, specifically when I opened it to find it completely empty. The counter was stacked with dirty dishes. I mused. I admit, I mused aloud, possibly with inappropriate words. And then I called people in.
"Remember that time when everyone was loading their own dishes in the dishwasher?" I said.
They stared blankly into the recesses of the dishwasher, not wanting to admit that they do, in fact, remember. For them, those were days of hopeless drudgery. The days when, instead of taking four minutes to do the dishes myself, I would take ten minutes to round them up and harangue them about responsibility. Because I'm lazy that way. But I digress.
"And people would just unload the dishwasher if it was full, and then load their dishes? And not stack dirty dishes all over the counter assuming Mom would take care of it?" I pressed them mercilessly.
"Yeah . . . good times," someone ventured.
"They were good times. They were better times. We're going back to those times." I said.
"Oh," they said. They seemed oddly unenthusiastic.
"Right. So, to recap: you load your dishes in the dishwasher. This will involve checking the dishwasher. If it's empty, you're in luck. If it's not, you have a choice. Wash your dishes and put them away, or unload the dishwasher and then load your dishes. You know what? I don't even care if you put the dishes away. You can stack them on the counter. I will put them away. At least then I won't be unloading, putting away, and loading. I'll just be putting away."
"Okay," they said with long faces, even though I'd just thrown them a major bone.
"Okay, because this is ridiculous," I said. "Seriously. I'm not your maid."
"Oh, Mom. We don't think you're our maid," they said.
Hmmm.
And then daltonboy asked Lola to offer the prayer before dinner. Here's what she said: "We're thankful that we have Mom here to cook for us."
At least she had the decency to giggle. And to explain afterward that God knew what she meant.
I think I have a pretty good idea what she meant, too. When I came out the next morning, everyone's dirty dishes were on the counter.
2 comments:
What would happen if you stopped enabling them and let the dirty dishes pile up. Serve the next meal by putting it on the table but without anything for them to eat it on. You of course would have a clean plate and silverware to eat with, so have someone say the prayer and then you start eating by yourself while they scramble to find a clean plate, etc.
Sadly, this type of discipline only works if the disciplinees actually care about having clean dishes. They don't, which is gross, but mostly it means they just don't care enough to do anything. Some people in my family will literally eat off the bare table (not soup). Since I'm the only one who cares, I have to enforce. And, a lot of the time, do all the work.
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