As Chet and Ava get older I'm delighting in forcing them to earn their keep. At six and nine they've been putting their cereal bowls in the sink for a while now but I've moved on to having them actually rinse them and put them in the dishwasher.  My friend Quincy tells a story about how his dad put him to work as a kid that I love.  It was back in the 70s and TV remote controls were just coming out but they were ugly beige boxes that actually made the TV's dial chunk-chunk-chunk around.  Quincy begged his dad to get one. 

"Why do I need a remote control," barked his dad. "When I got you?"

I've been waiting on these little things like some sitcom butler and now it's payback.  I was cooking omelettes this weekend when I asked Ava to crack the eggs (something she usually likes). When I called her back in from the TV room to set the table she protested, "But I've been slaving away for you all morning!"  (referring to cracking five eggs).  I just gave her my best non-pleased daddy stare and she shrugged and pulled out the plates.  

Now that we live in a New York  apartment after their lifetimes in California what I miss most is having a washer and dryer at my fingertips.  Now it's a trek to the basement and paying for each load with a special debit card.  I do it as infrequently as possible so it looks like I'm lugging a couple of bodies down to the building's basement when I finally get around to it.  Actually, however, the washing and drying doesn't bug me, but the folding all that stuff drives me nuts.  I've taken to turning on Hannah Montana or iCarly and enlisting the kids but this week I  desperately wanted to run out and catch a movie with friends.  Bad dad that I am I dumped the mountain of clean clothes in front of the TV and commanded the kids to go to it.  Bernard, my ex-wife's friend and sometime babysitter who moved out here when we did, was babysitting and of course I told him I didn't expect him to help them.   Miraculously, the kids only complained a little.

When I came home the pile of clothes was gone.  Then I went into my room and was delighted to find this sight:

Not much to the untrained eye for sure but I whooped for joy.   Mabe they're not the neatest clothes-folders yet but I feel that we are on our way to (at least my) domestic bliss.

Anybody have any good tips on tricking kids into working around the house (without kvetching?)