Dishes

Because Mom's Mother was on the bossy side, my mother never pushed her will on people. She never was one to tell us kids what to do or when to do it. She would say, "Cloe, would you like to do the dishes for me?" Of course I didn't! if only she would have ordered the job done! Sometimes bossy works best.

In our home it was Dad's rule that Mom cooked the meals for her hard working husband and many children. When the food was prepared my father insisted it was right for Mom to sit down and let us girls do the rest. If she wasn't going to demand respect, he was there to teach us she deserved it.

LaVerna and I set the table and Mom placed the food in the middle. If anything else was needed after Mom sat down someone else was expected to get up and bring it to the table. We learned to respect our mother.

LaVerna and I were expected to the dishes. I was such a poor unwilling helper. It was discovered we would have to take turns in order to be fair to long suffering LaVerna. Dad built a special step stool so we little kids could reach the sink by the time we were 6 years old.

How I hated the dishes! LaVerna constantly had to keep an eye open for the food encrusted  pots and pans when it was my turn to wash the dishes lest she was required to wash them during the next shift. Quite often I would accidentally  place a dirty pan in the oven, or behind the stove, where, "Goodness me! I didn't see that!"

I was so short standing up to the sink that dirty dishwater dripping down my elbows! Dad did not let me get away with shirking my duty. If he was not home I knew I'd better do my chores or trouble would be waiting on my shoulder when Dad returned. He drub me out of bed at 2 am. once to do my assigned dishes. Mom never said, "Come do the dished now!" She let me use my own judgement as to when I would get to them. Quite often bed time rolled around and I was just too tired to wash a dish! Daddy never spanked but I melted with the least disapproval from his stern unhappy look.

I needed glasses and no one found this out until I was in the fifth grade. Daddy was forever making me wash my dishes over again and telling me I should be ashamed for not sweeping the dirty floor better. When I was told I was half blind at age 10 it was a relief to know! At least Mom and Dad understood why I was so bad at the jobs I was assigned to.

Want to hear a real sad story? Once Dad told me I was a poor excuse of a girl for not sweeping the floor clean when i was told to help my mother. He grabbed the broom from me when i had finished and swept a huge piece of debris onto a dust pan. i had no idea I had missed all that! No matter how hard I tried I could never sweep or wash the dishes to please him. This was before we learned about my eye sight. I could only see a fuzzy floor let alone anything that might be considered dust. I was always being told to rewash the dished when it was my turn to wash. I could not see the small pieces of food unless I held the dish to my nose. For years after the event, if I thought about that remark made to me, I would break out in tears. I failed my Father! One would have to be pretty bad if one was a poor excuse of a girl.