Washing Rice

I grew up the eldest of four. I quickly learned that it mattered if you were the eldest daughter or the eldest son in an Asian family. My mom called me to do everything. I trailed after her with towels to wipe the floors she mopped. She'd call home in the mornings and afternoons from work to make sure I had vacuumed. She called me to cut the vegetables, plate the rice for everyone in the family, pour the coffee for her mah jeong friends, and get the milk bottle for my baby brother. I don't think I minded until I realized my brothers and sister got to watch tv and play while I was doing all this. It was almost a relief to go away for college because she was forced to ask someone else. And of course the task fell to my younger sister rather than the brothers. (I sometimes wonder what it's like for men who grew up in traditional Asian families with no sisters. Did they learn to do all these things?)

Today I'm married with a little boy on the way. I find that in making our home, things are not a chore anymore. I enjoy cleaning the bathroom and seeing it shine. I want to clean the stoves and microwave. I'm still learning to cook good food, but it makes me happy if my family enjoys the food.

As I washed the rice today, I found myself thinking. Rinse and drain. Rinse and drain. Rinse and drain. Until the rice water pours out clear. I found myself thinking about how life speeds by you the older you get, but there are little things that will stay the same. Like how to wash rice. The same thing I did as a little girl, I do now. Washing rice, doing dishes, and folding laundry can be quite cathartic. I'm thankful my mom made me do all those things because it's easier to to learn then than in college or post-college.

I'm sure not everyone shares that opinion and many probably see chores as a chore. But there's really something really sweet about being domestic.

And I look forward to teaching my little boy how to wash rice.