Three Squares and Who Me?

It is always interesting to learn what your adult children thought of you when they were kids.

Erin posted this haiku on face book last weekend:

     A little rant for you

     Kids don't flush poo

     Dog drinks from the loo.

Then when we were face timing with Matt on Sunday he said "Dad, I remember a certain family council when you talked about toilet paper. You told us we should only use 3 squares folded over each other."   He didn't remember why we had that particular family council, he thought we were just being frugal, or as he put it, "your usual cheap selves."  I looked at him and said, "it was because you guys kept plogging up the toilets because you were using too much toilet paper."  He said "I wondered, the  plunger and I were best friends last night. I told Erin we were going to have the toilet paper talk with the kids. When Erin heard 3 squares, she looked at me like I was crazy, so I told her OK 4 squares, inflation you know."  The funny thing is when I heard John say three squares all those years ago, I looked at him like he was crazy and said (to myself) there is no way I am only using three squares!  

The other day we were with Thomas and he said  to me "I always thought you were the obsessive compulsive one in the family, but now I am beginning to think it is dad because he is so annal about his wood projects."  

What? Me compulsive? I'm not compulsive, it's John who is. He's the one who can't let a project go, who gets up at 4:30 to work on them.  I said " How am I compulsive?  Wait, maybe I don't want to know what you thought of me." 

Thomas said,  "You were the one who had to have the table set just right every night, wouldn't let us put a pan on the table, or a food container. Things had to be cleaned your way before company with inspections and everything." 

Shoot. May be I am just a little compulsive. About things that are important to me. Like quilting, and gardening, and etc. 

I Would Prefer Not To

My favorite Herman Melville work is “Bartleby the Scrivener.” Admittedly I have never gotten through “Moby Dick”, my dad’s favorite book, but have read the opening line “Call me Ishmael. . .” enough times to make it part of my cultural literacy lexicon.

I first read “Bartleby” in college (my second time) when I was living with two teenagers, a pre teen and a 7 year old as well as a wonderful supportive husband. I instantly related to the narrators puzzlement when Bartleby replied to a simple job request with “I would prefer not to.” Bartleby’s preference to do nothing eventually led him to the loss of his job and a place to live. He finally starved to death in debtor’s prison, preferring not to even eat the food he was given.

My teens, especially my second son, were just starting to push the boundaries of parental expectations, especially where family chores were concerned and were trying to see what they could get away with not doing. “I don’t want to”, “why do I have to do?” and “what for?” were frequently heard. While “I’m the mom and I said so,” made me feel better it wasn’t very effective as a way to get them to do what needed to be done.

I remember telling them the story of Bartleby around the dinner table; explaining to them the consequences of an “I prefer not to” attitude. We laughed as we took their preferences to do nothing to the logical conclusions: I prefer not to do the dishes, so there will be no clean dishes, so we can’t cook, so we will all starve to death; I prefer not do my home work, so I will not get good grades, so I won’t get a scholarship, so I won’t be able to afford college, so I will have to work at the Sugar Factory (another story) where it is smelly, hot and pays minimum wage; I prefer not to do my jobs around the house, so the house will be dirty, so mom will be cranky and we will all have to live with her.

I am reminded of Bartleby because John and I are teaching the 17 year olds in Sunday School. We hear Bartleby’s excuse from some of the teens we teach. My kids tell me Rush (the musical group) says it as well:” If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.”  I want to put my arms around these teens and say look at the long term consequences of “preferring not to.” They are real and you are old enough that inaction is no longer an option. If you don’t decide, life will do it for you.

One day after our Bartleby discussion I asked Chris to do something and he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and “I prefer not to,” I looked back at him, smiled and said “I know, but do it anyway.” He did. My college education paid off then and there.