Child Labor

There are some Saturdays that remind me of being a kid--especially Springtime or holiday weekend Saturdays. I have 21 first cousins on my mom's side of the family and 3 non-DNA related cousins on my dad's. When my family lived in Fresno, California, all but 8 of those 21 maternal cousins lived within 25 miles of each other--including my family that was 19 kids running around getting in trouble together.

For the most part, when the cousins got together it was to swim at one of my aunt's or to go to the zoo or to eat a holiday meal or just have a giant sleepover at someone's house or camping. But, if someone's yard needed weeds pulled or fruit picked or something, we all woke up early on Saturday to go weed, pick fruit, or clear the brush. We were free labor.

I remember for a few years every 4th of July saw us up bright and early placing little American flags in the front yards of people's homes out in Kerman, CA. It was like we had to work first to get to have fun later with fireworks and sparklers. But, we didn't seem to mind or complain all that much about the work from what I remember. There were maybe 10 of us at that time who were old enough to do the work and when we were done we got to go play at the park across the street or swim or play in the sprinklers. We cranked up Michael Jackson's "Bad" album or a little Air Supply or Neil Diamond or Madonna and had fun.

We were some sweaty, dirty children working and playing in the California sun. Today would have been the perfect weather for one of those yard work sessions. It rained a few days ago in Houston, the temperature has been extremely pleasant, and the weeds would have slid right out of the ground with a little oomph. Once the sun heated up the air a bit and we were hot and dusty and finished with our tasks, a couple of runs through the sprinkler would have been the perfect reward. Followed by something delicious to eat outside on the picnic tables. Maybe we'd take turns cranking my aunt's ice cream maker for some homemade strawberry ice cream.

Ahh....the good life. Little family work projects never really hurt us. Too bad we all live so spread out now. I live on a permanent basis the farthest away with the rest congregated in Utah, California, Washington, and Arizona. Those 9+ years we spent in Fresno were pretty idyllic and happy. I wish all children could grow up like that with parents who love each other and by extension their children.