It was 6 months into what my wife would call her golden age of doing dishes. It was the first time in her life that she had ever owned a dishwasher. If anyone can wear certain parts of domestication like a Girl Scout patch, it was this.
'Watch as I do the dishes at the push of a button,' she'd sing. Sometimes she'd simply stare at the machine while it did the work, then look at me condescendingly and ask me why I wasn't working as hard as the machine.
She wasn't alone in enjoying this piece of technology. I wasn't exactly reminiscing the days when the only help I got with the dishes was in midget form. But that was when my daughter shocked me. She said that she didn't like the dishwasher and she missed doing the dishes with me. (Seriously, what are they teaching kids these days?)
Missed doing the dishes? Missed it? I'm wondering which part she missed. Was it the scolding I would give her when she would become wetter than the dishes she was rinsing? Was it the killing of time while she made spoons dance together before drying them? Perhaps it was the search for soap bubbles which used to be in the sink.
When I asked her, she told me it was the time we spent together, listening to music while we forgot that we were involved with a chore.
I'd heard that somewhere before, but assumed it was made up by pastors wanting to sell an idea of simplicity or family time or some mumbo jumbo like that. (That's right, mumbo jumbo. My parents would be proud that their terminology is being used on a new generation.) I also figured the idea of families doing chores together would be a good first sequence for a movie where everything goes horribly wrong, perhaps something on Lifetime.
But I didn't push my nine-year old to say that she missed doing dishes with me. In fact, I told her she was crazy, then told her to get back to folding clothes with me. We've yet to come across the machine that will do that for us.
Perhaps I have missed it. Again. Maybe I need to remember that, despite the bells and whistles of computer games and the lure of shiny toys, nothing beats the involvement of a parent with their child. After all, our significance is not found in the things we can give, but what we can share of ourselves. I don't miss the dishes, but I will keep family chores at the top of my list.
'Watch as I do the dishes at the push of a button,' she'd sing. Sometimes she'd simply stare at the machine while it did the work, then look at me condescendingly and ask me why I wasn't working as hard as the machine.
She wasn't alone in enjoying this piece of technology. I wasn't exactly reminiscing the days when the only help I got with the dishes was in midget form. But that was when my daughter shocked me. She said that she didn't like the dishwasher and she missed doing the dishes with me. (Seriously, what are they teaching kids these days?)
Missed doing the dishes? Missed it? I'm wondering which part she missed. Was it the scolding I would give her when she would become wetter than the dishes she was rinsing? Was it the killing of time while she made spoons dance together before drying them? Perhaps it was the search for soap bubbles which used to be in the sink.
When I asked her, she told me it was the time we spent together, listening to music while we forgot that we were involved with a chore.
I'd heard that somewhere before, but assumed it was made up by pastors wanting to sell an idea of simplicity or family time or some mumbo jumbo like that. (That's right, mumbo jumbo. My parents would be proud that their terminology is being used on a new generation.) I also figured the idea of families doing chores together would be a good first sequence for a movie where everything goes horribly wrong, perhaps something on Lifetime.
But I didn't push my nine-year old to say that she missed doing dishes with me. In fact, I told her she was crazy, then told her to get back to folding clothes with me. We've yet to come across the machine that will do that for us.
Perhaps I have missed it. Again. Maybe I need to remember that, despite the bells and whistles of computer games and the lure of shiny toys, nothing beats the involvement of a parent with their child. After all, our significance is not found in the things we can give, but what we can share of ourselves. I don't miss the dishes, but I will keep family chores at the top of my list.
Comments