Simple Chores Set the Stage
My Dad—aka Chore Master Supreme®—always made it look easy. And I’m not talking about the actual chores he assigned to my siblings and me when we were kids. Rather, I’m talking about the work he expected us to do and the way he seamlessly assigned our tasks. The lessons I learned from him about accountability and service have stuck with me to the present, even now in the corporate world.
But let’s go back to the idyllic, tranquil Saturday mornings of my youth. So peaceful, so relaxing … until suddenly, my brother Jack and I would hear Dad coming down the hallway. He had a distinguishable gate and would almost always be singing in Arabic in the resonate style of the Middle East, where he had grown up. Jack and I would look at each other with familiar dread, then jump up before Dad reached our room. No one dared to relax in the presence of the Chore Master Supreme.
Dad wasted no time in setting expectations:
- Hey, let’s go … we have work to do.
- Get out there and mow the grass—must be done by 8 a.m.
- One of you needs to clean the patio while the other goes with me to the hardware store.
- This afternoon, we need to wash the cars.
- Before dinner, you need to do all the outside windows.
His orders, though quite clear, did leave room for my brother Jack and I to fight about certain details:
- Who’s doing the front yard, and who’s doing the back? (The back was easier, but Jack and I had a pervasive sense of amnesia regarding who did which the week before.)
- Who was going to haul the last bag of grass out to the alley (Jack holds the modern-day record for most consecutive weeks of never finishing the mission—478 weeks.)
- And hundreds of other skirmishes as the day progressed.
As we tried incrementally more clever ways to indict each other as the laziest sibling, the IQ points rained down. Consider:
- Me: You didn’t roll up the hose
- Jack: I barely used it
- Me: Technically correct, as you have barely done any work all day
- Jack: Oh, like you’re taking credit for Janan drying off the station wagon
- Me: She wanted to
- Jack: BS—you tricked her by giving her a stick of gum.
- Me: You still failed to roll up the hose. And I’m telling dad you said BS.
- Jack: Dad won’t care when I tell him you called Samia a name for not helping.
- Me: You suck
- Jack: Super clever comeback
- Me: I am not rolling up the hose again this week!
- Jack: Give Janan another piece of gum, and maybe she’ll do all your work for you.
- Me: *thwack* (sound of me thwacking Jack)
Think of all we learned, our lack of intellectual discussion notwithstanding! We definitely grasped (literally) many practical matters of home and property upkeep. But more importantly, we gained an understanding of family dynamics and the roles required to make things work. And always, we learned the importance of doing our best, because Dad was a ruthless QA manager!
No doubt, Dad was in charge of Saturday chores, and he made the rules. Every task had a time expectation, and each could be done poorly or well.
The same holds true today as adults in our work lives. Is there anyone who doesn’t find themselves subject to a supervisor or someone else making the rules? Aren’t there always deadlines? As CEO, I’m subject to a board of directors and shareholders for some of the most important strategies I’m tasked with executing.
All associates in every workplace are expected to hold up their part of the overall work, and that often involves incentives, just like paying my sister to help. And everyone at work has an accountability to each other (like Jack and me) and to the organization as a whole (like our family). Our family expected us to finish our jobs, and that included rolling up the hose. Jack might be primarily accountable for this task, but if the hose doesn’t get rolled up, we all lose (hence the spirited discussion). The sense of accountability to each other and to the collective is one of the most powerful lessons of all.
I opened this story by saying, “Dad always made it look easy,” and he certainly did. But you know what? It ain’t easy. As a father, I found it quite difficult. It was hard for me to decide which job to give to the kids because I could knock out the tasks quickly and get on with the weekend. That was selfish on my part, and if I’d kept to that course, my kids wouldn’t have been learning because I didn’t have the patience. Fortunately for me and them (they’ll thank me later), my wife Judy has plenty of patience and perseverance.
So once again, the early lessons that Dads and Moms teach are still applicable. Learning starts young and never ends. With gratitude, I thank the Chore Master Supreme for the wisdom he imparted.