A Chore Memory

Okay, since Cameron didn't contribute on the chore challenge, I'm going to contribute a memory of him and chores.

I know you all think we Moll kids hated outside chores, but you have to understand something. For the first 9 years that we lived in Antioch (and remember we lived there a total of 14) the entire backyard was a weed-fest. And we're not talking wimpy weeds. We had a deck, and those weeds grew higher than the deck every year - so we're talking 4-5 feet high.

And every year, every stinkin' year, Dad would make us weed it or mow it, or whatever to it, and he'd tell us, "This is the last year we have to do this, we're going to have a backyard next season." And the year would pass, and of course those weeds would grow back again. In fact, for at least one year, we kids were going to take matters into our own hands, and we were going to get dumploads of sand and make the backyard a beach volleyball court. The only thing that stopped us, actually, was the fact we'd have to put up nets over the fences because we knew the one neighbor, Sam, and the one behind us hated our balls ending up in their yards.

So anyways, during one of these years of worthless weeding, my Dad set us all up outside, and told us all we had to do for that day was a row of weeds. He put us all next to each other, so we each had about a two foot wide swath, and we had to weed from the back of the house to the fence, about maybe 20 feet. Cameron was on my right, Erik was on my left, and Jared was next to him.

So we all, grumbling, started in. After going about a foot or two, the three of us noticed Cameron wasn't there anymore. I'm not sure, but I think at that first point, Cameron had gone in and tried to convince Dad to let him just mow the weeds down, but he said no. So Cam came out and worked a few more minutes, and then he was gone again. He came back with the roto-tiller. He was going to till it all up and then pull out the weeds. This could have been a rather brilliant idea because the dirt was clay clumps, and pulling weeds out took a heck of a lot of strength.

The roto-tiller didn't work, though, so he took it back to the garage. But the thing was, we didn't see him come back. And we didn't see him come back. And the three of us were getting about halfway down our row, and still no sign of Cameron.

And of course, we grumbled at him, because we figured he'd found a way, again, of getting out of a chore, and "it wasn't fair!" Still, we dug on, and the three of us, sweating and achy, finished our rows. We then cleaned up and went and played with friends.

Where was Cameron? Well, if I remember right, he spent the rest of that Saturday trying to fix the roto-tiller. And nope, he didn't weed his row.

Even though that experience bugged me then, it was such a precursory to Cameron's key to his successes in life. He was and still is always looking for the better way of doing things. He sees a task that is totally asinine (like that stupid weeding was) and he says, "There's got to be a better, easier way to do this." And then he goes and finds that way, and people thank him for it. I mean really, if he would have gotten that tiller working way back when, I think that whole Saturday would have been a totally different memory.

-Karissa