They are shelling beans. I have never seen anyone so excited about shelling beans as my kids were that day.
A mundane task out on the farm where my husband's family reside.
"Daddy, Daddy, come look! This is how we do it! See, we open these up and drop the beans in the basket, see?"
"You're going to tell me how it's done?" My husband jokes, "Honey, I slept in the bean basket growing up."
Ahh, if only all of life's jobs were as exhillirating and enthralling as shelling beans is to my kids. Or shucking corn, when I was a kid (I swear, that's what it's called!) Man we loved to shuck us some corn. My brothers and I would sit out on the back porch with a box of corn and peel away those tightly wrapped leaves. It was most fun when you got to the silk, it was so, well, silky. And hairy. And slimy -or dry, you never knew what you were going to get, maybe that was part of the fun of it.
I think, maybe, it's all in the attitude, though. Shelling beans, for some reason, is not particularly exciting to my husband. It was a task that always had to be done and he did it. Boring, whatever. For some reason my kids think it's really fun, because even though the novelty has worn off, they continue to ask their Grandmother if there are more beans to shell. Every time we go over, which is quite often. And when there are, they happily do it.
Shucking corn is still fun for me, I guess that's something that carried over from childhood. Maybe because it evokes fond memories it is a silly and simple task that I still enjoy. Unlike, say... Doing laundry. Have I mentioned my hatred of laundry? Laundry and dishes, sigh, weary, life-draining responsibilities.
Guess what? In a family of six, there be a lot of laundry and dishes mateys, a never ending train of crusty plates and dirty shorts.
But those things aren't the only ones I may have *cough* sometimes been known to have a deal with. Things like losing stuff. OH my gosh, I HATE losing things. My keys, my phone, the baby wipes, the spatula... It's infuriating to me when something I just had has completely vanished.
So sometimes I'll hear one of my kids playing with a toy and it will o something like this:
Kid making toy (usually a My Little Pony) talk: "OH MY GOSH. WHERE is it, grrrr... I can't find it anywhere, Arg! I'm so mad! Does it have legs? Did it just walk away? Aaaaahhhhh!"
Me: "Uuuhhh, what's up with your pony?"
Kid (laughing): "Oh, my pony just lost something, see? She's really mad (makes toy talk again) Arrrrggg!!!"
Me: "Ah (gulp) I see..."
You see how Me equals Bad Example Extraordinare? It's bad when they're making their toys act like you. It's worse when they themselves actually act like you.
That example goes somehing like this:
Kid (from backseat while sitting at a long light): "Sigh, Mom, when is the flipping light ever going to change?"
Hey. Mini Me. Back off. Frustration with inanimate objects is my turf. Kapish?
It's really all about attitude, isn't it. It is incredibly important that we model good attitudes for our kids. Obviously, there will be times we fail and those are great times to point them to the cross, to model repentance and humility and other words that still sometimes stick in my throat because, homygosh, I am so human! But I do believe that practice makes us better and that just through practicing having a better attitude about things we will actually grow a new perspective of them and that is a great model for our kids as well.
Back to the farm yard.
The sun is dancing down and great ribbons of gold are streaking across the sky. The beans have been shelled and we're all sipping tea in the shup (outdoor kitchen) and it's a little chilly because fall is at hand. The six year old laughs to herself as she helps Gjysha carry the tea tray and says again, "Work is our play!"
May work be your play today.
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