I’m house-sitting for my parents again – something I’ve been looking forward to…and yet it’s a little weird to be back in my childhood house, living there all like a grown-up.
One of the things I’ve been excited about is doing laundry. You see, I’m one of those people who can’t seem to get any housework done when other people are around. I don’t know why, but housework just seems very personal to me. So… house-sitting gives me a lot more alone time than I usually get with two roommates, and I get to do all of my laundry, cooking, dish-washing, etc…
But, let’s be honest, I never did those things when I lived here.
Part of the reason is that I never really knew how things were done. I always felt like I was trying to put together a bookshelf without a manual – even though I could do it, and the shelf was probably fine, I was haunted by a constant feeling of doing it wrong.
That’s how I felt about housework. Also, though, I just never saw a reason to do it. I didn’t really value having a tidy home. I’d never lived in one, and the only one I ever visited was my grandmother’s, which didn’t quite feel homey to me.
Point: it’s weird to be excited about housework in the house where I was constantly getting yelled at for not doing it.
I was an impressively low-maintenance child, I think.
I did what I was told, got good grades – even took a few AP classes, entertained myself, made my own meals, and basically made myself into what others wanted me to be.
BUT… I didn’t help out at home at all.
That’s right. Not. At. All.
I didn’t do dishes, vacuum, clean the toilet, take out the trash, pick up doggydoo. I eventually started doing my own laundry, but that didn’t much help my mom who did everything else.
But now, I’m really excited that my mom has this perfectly enormous sink for dish scrubbing and soaking. In fact, I did the dishes yesterday and two loads of laundry. I also took out the recycling and cooked two full meals.