In which I publicly embarrass my daughter

As I pack to move our house, I came across a wonderful document drawn up by my daughter to guide the behavior of her (then age 16) and her brother (then age 8) while I was out of town for ten days. So without further ado, I present to you, in its entirety (only the names removed to protect the guilty):


Section 1: Basic Household Chores (VERY basic)

The living room shall be kept reasonably neat through daily picking up by BOTH of us, regardless of who made that awful mess, or whoever’s shoes are blocking every available pathway. This is to save us a horrendous time cleaning it up an hour before Mom’s plane is due in.

The kitchen shall be cleaned at two-day (or fewer) intervals; daily cleaning is a goal I know we’re not going to make because we both HATE doing dishes. Therefore, we shall share the job of doing the dishes, one rinsing, one loading, depending on the outcome of a coin toss. Whoever can get the dishwasher to actually START gets ice cream served to him or her by the other party at some point that day.

Pick up your own dirty clothes and towels and books and magazines and whatever else ends up on the bathroom floor during your stay in there. He shall shower at least once during Mom’s absence due to his absolute refusal to use deodorant.

Bedrooms – it’s not even worth the trying, since they’re not public areas. Close your door if it gets that bad, which it usually does.

Section 2: Behavior

Friendly bickering is permitted, as long as nobody actually means what they say. Name-calling is only permitted in a joking way, such as calling each other “iguana gums” or “turkey lips.” Physical fighting of any kind beyond pretend slaps on the hand is a no-no, and whoever hits first is required to serve the other ice cream at some point that day, said point to be decided by the one being served. Whoever hits second should be ashamed of themself. Total refusal to engage in agreed-upon chores is not permitted; reasonable procrastination, extending to no later than 9:00 p.m., is.

Cursing beyond anything permitted on Star Trek on His part is not allowed at any time, or Mom will be told of the incident(s) in which such cursing occurred, upon which notification she will probably laugh. She is not responsible for her language while she is driving; at all other times, she is to hold to this same rule.

In general we are to treat each other like civilized human beings. If somebody sulks, they are to tell the other person exactly why they are sulking, and the other person is required to apologize, unless the sulk is over something really really childish.

This goes into effect the morning of Tuesday, December 26, 1995, and ends when Mom gets back. (Neither of us can remember the date right now. <g>)


I will now go into witness protection since she’s the one who introduced me to this board and I know when I’ve crossed that invisible line myself. :smiley:

If my parents had had such foresight, many horrible incidents could have been avoided. Bravo!

Heck, I didn’t draw up the contract, she did – I just found it well after the fact and saved it all these years for blackmail purposes! :smiley:

Alas, I fear the blackmail opportunities have passed. Somewher before she got out of high school would be just about right. By this time, she would probably find it amusing. The son, though, could possibly be made to squirm over this line

I can see that being very effective say, right before a date, or over a family gathering. Bwahahaha!

I have never brought a lady to a family dinner for the first time without great anxiety over just exactly which best forgotten childhood idiocy one of my sisters will bring up this time.

??? Eight year old boys need to use deodorant???

Other than that, it’s really a pretty good contract. It lays out reasonable goals. I’m impressed.

I wish I had that contract when I was left with my older siblings. Ours was simply, “I’m bigger than you, so you do what I say.”

Oddly enough, there wasn’t much questioning that.

Maybe he was ten – the memory fades rapidly; I was guessing his age based on hers since she had to be old enough to drive, but I may have been a couple years off. Anyway, he was getting old enough to start getting stinky. Trust me.

I thought it was a great contract, too, and was actually quite impressed that she thought to draw it up. Interestingly, however, the copy of it I found wasn’t signed…so I have no idea if they actually followed it or not, or just followed it voluntarily!

Sharp kids.

You met her, Tentacle, that time you came to NOLA. Remember? (And by the way, how you doing?)

I think most of that seems reasonable – and I’m the daughter in question!

But really, Mom, can’t you figure out your own kids’ ages? It says December 1995 right there. I was eighteen. He was twelve. More than old enough for deodorant. It took him years after that to start using it regularly, unfortunately.

Oops. I mean, nineteen and thirteen. My excuse is a lack of caffeine!

See, I’m not the only one who didn’t know how old you guys were!

But what’s YOUR excuse, seeing as you, oh, GAVE BIRTH TO US???

Obviously the stress of raising you leached the functioning cells from my brain, so I’m old and forgetful before my time!

Um…I totally screwed up my numbers AGAIN.

I was 19, he was 11. How hard is it to remember that I’ve got eight years on him? ARRRGH.

And somebody upthread was right – I’m more amused than embarassed about what you found. Now, if my brother knew about it…heh heh heh…

I think it’s a cool contract, and I would hope that my kids were bright and mature enough to do similiarly.

I like the honesty of it–“we wont’ do the dishes everyday, because we both hate it, so every second day…”

Funny, you have kinda described my approach to housework…heh.

The stuff you learn on this here message board! whiterabbit is the spawn of MamaTiger. So, what kinda hybrid is the son/brother? :smiley:

With a few modifications, that’d make a great pre-nuptual agreement.

Actually, he’s a Pod Person – we were waiting for the mothership to come pick him up, and it arrived in the form of the U.S. Air Force, who did an entire personality transplant and today he’s cheerful, outgoing, responsible, and utterly unlike the 11-year-old described in the contract. Oh, and he also uses deodorant now. When he has to. :smiley: