One of the most memorable meals from our childhood was the day Mom decided to try something a little gourmet. She spent a good part of the afternoon making a refreshing chilled soup, Cold Cucumber Soup, and an Eggplant Soufflé. With a flourish she called us all to dinner and presented us with lovely bowls of a cool green liquid. On a warm, humid summer day in NJ, it seemed just the thing. We all lifted our spoons to take the first sips of our dinner, quickly faces crumpled, mouths gagged, several were heard saying, "Eww! Yuck!" Across the table, Mom no longer could hold a straight face and she giggled as she looked around. Dad jumped up, aghast! "You knew what this tasted like? And you still served it?" She wasn't giggling anymore, she was laughing out loud. She admitted that she had indeed tasted it and knew it was awful. She served it anyway, because, she had spent the afternoon on it.
Never fear, the dinner was not a complete loss. She still had the Eggplant Soufflé for us. Still laughing, she went to the oven and pulled it out. Dinner was saved. It was beautiful, puffed up and golden brown. We oohed and ahhed. Then she served it. As the spoon went in, it deflated. The inside wasn't a golden brown but a pasty grey. It looked like stewed brains. We weren't taking our chances that it might taste like them too.
Mom's lovely gourmet dinner evolved into peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But, we all remember it.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Dishes
Is there a more dreaded chore in all of history than the dishes? Everyday. Even weekends and holidays. Dishes, dishes, dishes. It is one of those chores that is never done, no matter how well you do the job.
We had several variations of chore charts growing up, but every single one of them included turns doing the dishes. And while some chores lent themselves to some form of slacking or not doing thoroughly, the dishes were impossible to avoid. Oh, we tried, but there were consequences for not getting them done in a timely manner. The most common consequence for neglecting dish duty was to get assigned a weeks worth of dishes, thus providing the opportunity to practice avoidance skills for an entire week.
Some of us were more skilled in dish avoidance than others. I was among the slow learners and held the record for weeks on dishes until James got old enough to enter the fray. It did not take long for him to take the title, leaving my paltry 3 months on dishes in the dust. James didn't just get a week on dishes and accept his fate and learn his lesson. He considered dish duty as ground zero in the battle of his will versus authority in the universe. This was an epic battle. James didn't just earn weeks on dishes, he earned months and years.
There were some infamous face offs between James and the parents over dishes. One day Dad stood behind James and, as if he was a puppeteer, would help James pick up a dish and with the other hand in his would help him scrub it clean. This was not an easy task as James was struggling against the inevitable the entire time, squirming, clenching his fists, and protesting his fate.
Another episode that has become legend is the evening that James was told he had to do the dishes before he went to bed. At some point Dad entered the kitchen to check on his progress and found James asleep, curled up on the small kitchen rug, with a dish towel over his shoulders to provide some warmth on the cold kitchen floor.
It got to the point that James owned dishwashing in the house and since he had already been awarded dishes for the foreseeable future there was no point in using more days on dishes as a consequence. He earned weeks off his sentence just by doing them, if not willingly, then at least without a fight.
Do things change? Does a kid that hates to do dishes as a child grow up to be an adult that enjoys the quiet time at the sink? I suppose it is possible, but I have kids that accuse me of assigning them dishes just so that I won't have to do them. (Duh, yes!) And James? Well, he may do them, but only if he has to.
We had several variations of chore charts growing up, but every single one of them included turns doing the dishes. And while some chores lent themselves to some form of slacking or not doing thoroughly, the dishes were impossible to avoid. Oh, we tried, but there were consequences for not getting them done in a timely manner. The most common consequence for neglecting dish duty was to get assigned a weeks worth of dishes, thus providing the opportunity to practice avoidance skills for an entire week.
Some of us were more skilled in dish avoidance than others. I was among the slow learners and held the record for weeks on dishes until James got old enough to enter the fray. It did not take long for him to take the title, leaving my paltry 3 months on dishes in the dust. James didn't just get a week on dishes and accept his fate and learn his lesson. He considered dish duty as ground zero in the battle of his will versus authority in the universe. This was an epic battle. James didn't just earn weeks on dishes, he earned months and years.
There were some infamous face offs between James and the parents over dishes. One day Dad stood behind James and, as if he was a puppeteer, would help James pick up a dish and with the other hand in his would help him scrub it clean. This was not an easy task as James was struggling against the inevitable the entire time, squirming, clenching his fists, and protesting his fate.
Another episode that has become legend is the evening that James was told he had to do the dishes before he went to bed. At some point Dad entered the kitchen to check on his progress and found James asleep, curled up on the small kitchen rug, with a dish towel over his shoulders to provide some warmth on the cold kitchen floor.
It got to the point that James owned dishwashing in the house and since he had already been awarded dishes for the foreseeable future there was no point in using more days on dishes as a consequence. He earned weeks off his sentence just by doing them, if not willingly, then at least without a fight.
Do things change? Does a kid that hates to do dishes as a child grow up to be an adult that enjoys the quiet time at the sink? I suppose it is possible, but I have kids that accuse me of assigning them dishes just so that I won't have to do them. (Duh, yes!) And James? Well, he may do them, but only if he has to.
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