The Norwalk Hour

Parents inspire kids to help at home

- Amy Dickinson Ask Amy, P.O. Box 194, Freeville, NY 13068. e-mail: askamy@tribune.com

Dear Readers: I recently published a question from a woman who signed her letter: “Exasperate­d Mom.” This mom presented an honest and evergreen problem: How to get her three teenagers to help out more at home.

I need to add to my advice to this parent — that the way to get teenagers to help at home is to bring them onto the family team when they are toddlers. Young children love to help, and when children work alongside their parents, they are learning important life skills. The reason I didn’t offer this observatio­n to Exasperate­d was because — for her and her husband — that ship had already sailed.

I received scores of responses to this letter, and — some were genuinely helpful, others were funny or nostalgic, and some were bananas (put all of your kids’ bedroom furniture, belongings, and clothing into a rented storage unit and force them to “earn” them back).

Here is a sampling of my favorite responses:

Dear Amy: I was so tired of asking my teen daughters to do the same thing over and over again, so I stopped. Instead, one day I made tuna casserole for dinner — a dish they both hate. For four days in a row, I made tuna casserole for dinner.

I listened to them grumble about how much they hated it, while I told them that I could eat it every day for an entire month. I never mentioned the chores that weren’t getting done.

On the fourth night, my older daughter realized what was happening. She and her sister took care of the chores that night, and any time I made tuna casserole after that, they looked for things that needed to be done.

Noodle This!

Dear Amy: When I was a teenager, my room was always a mess. It drove my dad nuts. Finally, he took everything that was on my bedroom floor and tossed it onto the roof of our home.

When I came home and saw my Air Jordans (among other things) on the roof in the rain, I was horrified.

I would also leave my wet towel on the floor. Dad started shoving it under my covers. When I’d crawl into bed at night, my sheets were damp.

Suffice it to say, I kept my room clean and hung up my towel.

Food for thought.

Clean Dad

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