Just Dan Grant

I saw a lot of chatter today about what people were doing with this “extra day”. Cold and windy like it was, there weren’t too many options. So we – the kids and I – did something I have been doing since I was in middle school. We cleaned the whole house. Top to bottom. Bathrooms, windows and mirrors, laundry, dusting, mopping, dishes, putting things away, vacuuming out the couch, and anything else you can think of. The whole nine yards. And to top it off, my wife wasn’t even here.

Now I don’t mean to brag, or showcase my amazing abilities as a husband and father. If I wanted to do that, this post would just about be over already. And in reality, most of the guys I know my age do these kind of things anyway. This isn’t about them, or me.

This is about the person who trained me to do all that stuff. It’s about Mom. And Dad in his own way – standing beside Mom telling us to “do what your mother says” or he would apply the rod of instruction to the seat of understanding.

See my mother had this crazy notion since I was a little kid, and my siblings alike, that we would be trained to help in the everyday housework. She believed that if we helped make the mess, then we would also help clean it up. She even took it a notch higher than many of the moms of my friends – or at least that is what they told me – she was determined that we would also know how to run the house in her absence. Which seemed unnecessary seeing how she was primarily a housewife, and if she worked outside the home, it was only part-time. She was always home after school and for dinner, so it wasn’t like we were there to fill any gaps in her presence. The reason was a little heavier than working with her “schedule”, the reason was in case something happened to her.

I don’t know if I fully understood the gravity of that possibility when I was younger – what kid would? The issue was with Mom’s health – specifically her asthma. As I recall, Mom had a couple of scares when I was young, and the prognosis was not good. It was one of those things where if it continued, it was doubtful that she would make it through. Thankfully, that did not happen, and Mom will probably be one of the first people to read this and like it on Facebook.

But Mom didn’t know how things were going to go, so she purposed to teach and train her boys and daughter to do everything in the house like she wasn’t there.

I remember the day she bought laundry baskets. I was thirteen. My brother and I had taken our mountain bikes out into the woods that spring and rode the snowmobile trails that had just thawed out. They were an unholy muddy mess and we were the same when we got back to the house. I vaguely remember that we weren’t allowed into the house – Mom got into the van and drove to Walmart, returning with laundry detergent and laundry baskets. From that day on, I have done my own laundry. (If my math is right, that was twenty-three years ago, so I have been doing my own laundry longer than my Mother did it.)

There were evenings where we were tasked with making dinner. Either following a recipe on a box or learning how mom did it. I still call and ask for a missing ingredient every now and then. Usually it’s salt. There were days that we went with her to the store to get groceries – to think through a meal plan, get the odds and ends for school lunches, and make sure we had enough food to last the week without busting the budget. Currently, if my wife goes to make spaghetti, the kids plead with her to let daddy make it.

Cleaning was a natural part of every day activities. We didn’t just clean because someone was coming over, we cleaned because pretty much everything got cleaned once a week. For some reason, I ended up with the bathrooms. That was always my job. Always. Every nook and cranny, the top, the bottom, the sides – everything. My siblings had their own roles, and there were things we all did together. Every now and then, Mom or Dad would have us switch jobs one week and do something different just to confuse us and mess things up.

Laundry, cooking, cleaning, running a house – we did it all.

And then this crazy thing happened. We grew up, moved away, and now they have to do it all for themselves! No more minions! Just kidding.
But we did grow up – for the most part – and moved on with life. I watched in college how guys my age couldn’t fend for themselves, because they never had to. Guys would offer to pay me to clean their bathroom for White Glove inspections. Fat chance. Just because I can do it, and do it well, doesn’t mean I like to. Toilets are the worst.

Then I got married, and all these kids started showing up. The housework went from a monthly thing to a daily and weekly thing. Laundry piles up, meals have to be cooked, the bathrooms have to be cleaned, and so on and so forth.

Every day I am extremely grateful for a mother who trained her son to be a man who can take care of the house for his family.

We have been through so many times where Sarah is just unable to do what she does so well – run the house. Pregnancies, surgeries, sickness, traveling – life happens. When it does, I am able to step in and keep things moving forward. And don’t you know that I am taking every opportunity to continue the tradition. I haven’t cleaned the bathrooms on a weekly basis in some time. That now falls to our oldest. He hates it – and I don’t care. He’ll thank me for it some day.

I don’t know how things run in your house – and that’s up to you. But do your kids the favor of housework. It will teach them some things:

• Responsibility – growing up requires responsibility. Much of that is taught. You want freedom? Here’s this chore – get it done and you can have that freedom you want. Same in life – there are things you just have to do if you want to have fun.
• Routine – some things need to be done on a habitual basis. You don’t clean those bathrooms weekly and it will show. And smell. Routine teaches consistency. Some of the most organized and responsible people we have in this world will tell you that it starts with one thing – making your bed in the morning. Routine.
• Respect – I think if everyone cleaned up after themselves, we would live in a much different world. I have watched people pick up trash rolling through a parking lot – and I immediately have respect for the respect they have just showed to the world around them. Teach your kids to respect the space they live in and keep it clean!

I genuinely feel bad for people who weren’t taught how to run a household and keep things clean. Wives and mothers who try to live in a mess and Husbands and fathers who don’t know how to help their spouse.

As I sit here in this nice clean house, which will be messy tomorrow for sure, I am so thankful for that Momma who didn’t let me sit around the house in my filth.

Time to go start dinner!