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Since the beginning of time, parents have always been held accountable for their children, caring for them, loving them, and educating them. All parents have their own philosophy for the up bringing of their children. Some parents like the easy way out, and don’t punish their children at all; others are physical and give their children a good whooping. Then there are the parents like my mom.
In my household, mother raises daughter in a way that seems to always end in MORTAL COMBAT! High pitched yelling mixed with rambled explanations and excuses are sounds often heard. My mother is an adult who rarely ever whoops me, but she does punish me. You could say her method is an in between-none-at-all or too much discipline. At home I am a mere worker bee, at the mercy of the queen bee’s every whim. With that being said, here are the rules of my hive:
Bless all food that you eat (even if you’re only eating a snack).
All bedroom doors shall remain unlocked, unless there is an emergency
If you dirty a dish and forget to wash it, you shall wash dishes tenfold.
Chore day is a day of mandatory cleaning; leisure comes after chores have been completed.
The previously stated rules are the rules I am taught to live and die by, or at least until I’m grown and in my own house (or at least that’s what my mother tells me). To better understand my mother’s rules, I will explain them starting with the very first one.
Bless all food you eat. That’s a rule stressed daily. If I absentmindedly break this rule, nay that commandment, my mother gives an evil eye stare, a stare that is so bone chilling, I can feel it in my SOUL. A stare that says,” You have just made the biggest mistake of your life”, mother then proceeds to return to whatever she was doing, but this stare alone stays with me, and I lose my appetite.
The second commandment of the Washington house is All bedroom doors shall remain unlocked, unless there is an emergency. It’s my mother who strongly upholds this commandment. For some reason, she hates locked doors. Neither my sisters nor I have ever understood why, but she does. And if this rule is broken, she will take the “privilege” of having a bedroom door. Now when she first threatened to take away a door, my sisters and I thought she was joking, but she was as serious as a heart attack. She took off my sister’s doors more times than I can count on both my hands.
Next, the third commandment, If you dirty a dish and forget to wash it, you shall wash dishes ten fold, means that if I forget to wash a dish, I am forced to clean ALL the dishes, I have to clean my dish, my mother’s dish, the dishes used to cook the meal, and the already clean dishes in the drain! When it comes to cleaning up your own mess, my mom is NO joke. I never underestimate the extremes she will go to have dishes washed and put away.
Last of the Four Commandments, Chore day is a day of mandatory cleaning; leisure comes after chores have been completed. My mom loves to enforce chore day. Incomplete chores are thrown in my face when I ask to go somewhere. I’ve lied a few times about finishing my chores, but the aftermath is NEVER pleasant. It begins with my mom ranting and raving about me not finishing my chores for SO long, my head begins to explode.
In conclusion, ethical and household rules are the building blocks of life with my mother, and without them, I wouldn’t be able to stay in her house without penalties like whippings, being grounded, losing privileges, and extra chores is the price I pay to learn from my mistakes. At least that’s what my mom wants me to think.