We inherit so much from our parents. Our values, our sense of humor, our looks, our hairline and, I'm pretty sure in my case, my waistline and underbite. But there are other things we inherit that surprise and delight.
From my mother Norma, for example, I have inherited the need to keep my feet outside the blanket when going to bed, not bringing them under the covers until they are chilled and ready for warmth. Since I am pretty sure this need for cold feet was not something she trained me for as an infant, I remain in awe of genetics to know that somewhere in me there is a chromosome that says, "Just like your Mom, you need to get your toes cold before you go to sleep."
Red, my father, has given me so many things, but the one that I never suspected until recently was a compulsion to empty the dishwasher. Hey, we didn't even have dishwashers when I was growing up. But to my amazement, when I have stayed with them the last few years I have discovered that both my Dad and I cannot let a clean dish linger in the dishwasher in the morning.
I discovered this because Red usually clears the dishes when he first wakes up. That might not seem so noticeable except that nowadays that might be 3 or 4 am. I don't think it's a case of his belief that the early bird gets the worm as it is a terrible fear that the dishes might get dusty if they're left in the dishwasher much longer.
As you can imagine, this very early clearing of the dishes makes a bit of noise. And from a dead sleep I have more than once heard the unmistakable clink of plate upon plate. The first time I bolted up, feeling a strong sense of threat. "Someone is clearing MY dishwasher," my mind screamed until I realized I was at my folks' place and my domain was not under threat.
And it is that domain that has led me to what I think is a great idea that may be in the early stages of building a franchise if it works out as I hope it will.
It all started a while ago when I was clearing the dishwasher one morning and realized it made more sense to set up Linda's place at the table. Since she only drinks coffee and doesn't eat breakfast, this meant putting a single small spoon at her place. It looked lonely.
So I filled a creamer with milk and put it there. Still needed more, so I got her dispenser of Equal tablets (think of them as Pez for the calorie-conscious). Hey, she smokes. I got an ashtray (another item in the dishwasher that didn't need being put away). May as well get her cigarettes and lighter. Got the newspapers from the driveway and put them on the table.
Voila! Linda walks into what, for all intents and purposes, is a 5-star B&B in her very own home!
It's a great concept. So great, in fact, that each day I expand it.
For the first time in our 25 years together, I now make the bed every day. I always put a coaster and a clean ashtray next to the chair she sits in at night. Yesterday, I folded the next sheet on the toilet paper roll to have a point, just like in a 5-star B&B.
Tonight I am going to surprise her with a chocolate on her pillow.
I don't know how to commercialize this, but at the least I might become a best-selling author with a title like "How to Make Your Home into a 5-Star B&B".
I should add that I am pretty sure I did not inherit any of this from my parents. But I am dying to ask my sons if they have begun to fluff their pillows.
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