follow By ANGEL KANE,
And whenever my children start telling me how bad their life is, I immediately relive for them, in excruciating detail, how I spent each and every moment of my Spring, Summer and Christmas breaks, busing tables and mopping floors at my Father’s restaurant. Child labor laws were something my Father scoffed at.
And I had HUGE plans for my little workforce ….we were going to clean the garage, organize the closets, scrub some baseboards and make all the windows shine….good times! And when we were done with the inside, we were going to pull some weeds, re-mulch the landscaping and clean out the shed.
go site Once again I channeled my own Father’s words of encouragement “You people are so weak. Let’s get moving!”
Of course, it wasn’t easy. At some point during the process my husband tried to unionize the group. You see, he was one of those children who spent his breaks fishing, swimming, riding his bike and basically…living the dream.
“I think you are too hard on them. This is their break, they should be having fun.”
To which I could only laugh. “Fun, are you kidding me? My brother and I re-roofed my parent’s house one summer. Those skins cancers Gerry had removed last year are directly related to all the “fun” we had growing up. And if I hear you tell the kids about fair wages again, I am going to take you out!”
Needless to say, once the union was busted, we continued having lots of “fun” , and I am proud to say my house and yard look amazing…and it didn‘t cost me one penny!
Of course, I now fear that before Summer break one of my children might assassinate me, so if I go missing, I’d ask everyone look for some freshly poured concrete!