Dear Mr. and Mrs. Highness
I'd like to lodge a complaint about the chores I am doing in this house. I am 14 years old and if you recall, this is not MY house. It is Kerry's house. I just live here because my mom does. I feel it is unfair that I have to do more chores than both of you do put together. Is there a way we can discuss the obvious unbalanced workload that is my chores versus yours. If you do not do something about my chores, I will just stop doing them and then WHO will clean your house then?
Regards,
Erin
The letter you've just read above was an actual letter from me to my parents when I was 14. I'd just moved up from the only town I'd ever lived in to live with my mom and stepdad in a really small town 2 hours away.
I hated having so many new chores to do. While my father may shown his love through his Gold Amex, my stepfather felt like showing me he cared by giving me a sense of responsibility.
And I hated it.
I believe I penned this letter after I'd gotten in trouble for not sweeping around the kitty litter well enough. It seemed like I was always getting in trouble for things relating to cleaning. I wasn't paying enough attention to the details when I dusted or vacuumed or I just forgot to clean something all together.
For most of my teens I resented my stepdad -- and my mom on some level -- for making me do all of these chores. I felt like I'd suffered enough, what, with having to move away from my friends and make new ones. When you're a teen-ager that feels like a fate worse that death.
And so I resorted to the best means of communication I had -- penning a letter. (It's funny how my fondness for pouring out my soul on a page has never changed.) I left the letter on my parent's bed and waited for them to come and apologize to me and admit they'd been burdening me with too many chores.
I was preparing to accept their apology when I heard a "ERINNNNNNNN" come from upstairs. Apparently my letter didn't go over as I'd hoped and I was stuck doing just as many chores as before.
My parents like to remind me of this letter when I, as a stepmom, am belly-aching about how the kids never seem to be as keen on doing the chores around this house as I am. In fact, the Dear Mr. and Mrs. Highness letter has become a family joke.
When I'm bottling the urge to voice my frustration about kids and chores, I'm reminded that I hated them myself. Ironically, or perhaps it's symbolic, I credit my stepdad for making me the must-keep-a-clean-house person I am today. If it weren't for his constant reminders to sift the kitty litter, put away the dishes, wash the deck, take out the trash, etc. I probably would have been a lazier grown-up and a worse role model for my own stepkids.
So Mr. Highness, one last word: Thanks



