FIVE CHORES I HATE
1. Emptying the Dishwasher.
I hate emptying the dishwasher. I always have and I don't plan on changing my mind anytime soon. As a child, it was my main chore. It seemed like there were always dishes to be put away. If I wanted to play outside, I had to empty the dishwasher first. If I wanted to watch T.V., I had to empty the dishwasher first. Now, if you ask my mom, she would probably say that I was most likely to find a way out of emptying the dishwasher but we all know...sometimes childhood memories can be a bit skewed.
I know you may be wondering why my kids aren't putting them away? Yes, the explanation is that we run the dishwasher every night after everyone is in bed. The kitchen is clean every morning and so are the dishes that are sitting in my beautiful dishwasher waiting for my children's dirty hands to pull them out and put them away. Unfortunately, they go to school and the breakfast dishes pile up in the sink. I have 2 options, wait for the kids to return in the afternoon to empty the dishwasher or clean the kitchen so I can enjoy my coffee. I chose the latter because my coffee enjoyment is very important.
The next question you may ask is why don't you run the dishwasher after breakfast? Yes, that is a smart question and I have tried that...several times. Unfortunately, it always ends up back on the night shift and I end up on the dishwasher emptying morning shift.
It is just another selfless act of motherhood which guarantees my crown will be bigger than Philip's in heaven.
2. Folding Whites.
I really don't mind doing laundry. I would rather fold than empty the dishwasher if truth be told. But still...the socks! The white load has so many little things in it. Underwear, socks, T-shirts...it is a nightmare. It takes me twice as long to fold whites as it does any other load of laundry. I hate it.
My friend Stacey told me once that Americans wear white socks. I never realized this before she said that. Now I think of Stacey every time I put on a pair of white socks. Sometimes I send her pictures.
I believe Mothers across our beloved nation need to unite and ban the purchase of white socks. It could be an issue of national security and it would make my life just a little bit easier. For the record, my beloved husband wears blue socks. He is my soul mate.
3. Taking Out the Trash.
I really am not one to scream, "That's not my job." except for the trash. I hate emptying the trash. I just don't think it is my job so all day long I push down the trash. Philip has a saying when he comes home from work, "A bag a day." I know I really shouldn't be like this, but unlike with the dishes in the sink, I don't have to look at the trash in order to enjoy my coffee. I can put something in the trash can and if it doesn't fit...I have a gift of making it fit. If I get really desperate, there is a trash can in the garage. I won't empty it. Sometimes when someone empties the trash can, the bag is stuck from too many pushes. I am not changing. I feel like everyone has to draw the line somewhere and I draw my line at the trash.
4. Changing the Sheets on the Top Bunk.
Right after I broke my foot in November, our family had the privilege of entertaining lice—for the second time. One of the things you have to do to let these little fellows know you mean business is change and wash the sheets every few days. As I was standing on the ladder with my walking boot on my foot, I started crying. Right then and there I had to admit to myself and later to my family, I hate the bunk beds. I mean hate.
I hate pulling everything off and having to bring it back up piece by piece in order to make it again. I hate that I have to sit on the bed and make it around me. It is the worst job ever...well, after emptying the trash but since I don't do that one, I really should put this as my number 1 hated chore.
5. Washing the Kitchen Floor.
It probably isn't fair of me to put this one on the list. It really isn't washing the kitchen floor that I hate, but the fact that washing the floor puts a huge target on it for someone to spill something on it immediately after it is dry. IT HAPPENS EVERY TIME.
I think it is a test of my love and patience for my children. I promised myself that I would not freak out on my kids if they spilled things. Growing up (another skewed childhood memory), I spilled stuff all the time. I spilled my food, my plates, my drinks...and my family started saying, "There she goes again." It seemed like the more they said this, the worse it got. I have one child like this and he is the one most like me. There are times he spills something and I just about lose my ever-loving mind over it, but I refuse the react. Our saying in our home is that it is just an accident and it cleans up. BUT SERIOUSLY....IT KILLS ME ON THE INSIDE.
So, I will wash my floor and it probably won't look like I did. I have to walk away from this task with just a personal satisfaction of knowing that it is clean underneath the crumbs from breakfast, the sticky juice clinging to your socks or the food chunk you kick across the floor when you walk. That just sounds gross, but it is true.
THE CHORE I DESPISE
Cleaning the Toilets.
No explanation required.
I am a girl passionately in love with Jesus, my husband, and my children. I am forever learning how to live a life completely undone for my God. This blog is about my journey and a few funny stories in between.