Here is a story from when I was a little girl. I'm not sure how old I was, maybe 8 or 9.
My parents were going out for the evening and my brothers and I had a babysitter. I remember the babysitter was nice because she would always let us stay up late watching scary shows on television, but the moment we saw those car lights shine in the driveway we had to rush to bed and pretend to be asleep.
All of us kids had our chores and before they left, my parents told me to wash the dishes before I went to bed. This night, the babysitter's boyfriend came over and she said we had to go to bed at our regular bedtime. I reminded her that I had to wash the dishes first. She said that she would wash them, but I had to go to bed now. So, being the obedient child that I was, I did. (No sarcasm here, I was a seriously obedient child!)
The next thing I knew was that my dad was waking me up about midnight, saying that I had to get up and wash the dishes! I tried to explain that the babysitter said she would do them. He said that it wasn't her job, it was mine.
Oh, the unfairness of it all! I cried and cried − not so much that I had to get up and wash the dishes, but because my dad thought I was lazy or forgetful and was trying to put the blame on the babysitter.
I think that was when I learned about responsibility and that life isn't fair.
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