Apparently very little. I walked into the house and literally cringed at the sight of the kitchen floor. With a mother usually wheelchair-bound and one man and one teenage boy in charge of the chores traditionally done by women throughout the centuries, everything is handled in a very time-efficient manner.
They just don't do chores.
Granted, my brother is a three-sport athlete at his high school and also a straight-A student. And in Boy Scouts. And my dad works his heart out to provide for my family and tries to spend quality time with my brother doing whatever Boy Scouts do at those weekly meetings. I know they're busy.
But in four months, couldn't they find one day to wash the floor?
So I got to spend my first day of Thanksgiving break running errands and washing the kitchen floor. I'm not complaining. Cleaning is very therapeutic for me, provided I don't have to do it too often. But sometimes it amazes me how they can stand to live in a house with a filthy kitchen floor.
Then I remember. They're boys.
No comments:
Post a Comment