Gollee!
Chapter 13
Chore Wars - How to Get Kids to Do Chores Without the FBI Getting a Hostage Negotiator Involved
The Art of Making Your Children Think They’re In Control While You Run a Tiny Dictatorship
How to Make Kids Do Things Without Losing Your Sanity
The Chores Wheel of Doom is Often Ineffective
Ah, Chapter 13: The Great Chore Wars.
Here’s where the real battle of wills happens. You can feel the resistance from your kid before they even set foot in the room. I’m picturing this as a battle of epic proportions—you vs. a child with the enthusiasm of a potato.
Let's get one thing straight: getting kids to do their chores is like convincing a cat to take a bath—not only will they act like you’re trying to commit some unholy act, but they’ll also squirm, run away, and possibly hiss while you plead for even a modicum of cooperation.
But fear not! There are tactics. Absurd tactics. And it all starts with the art of subtle persuasion.
Step 1: Pretend It’s an Epic Quest
Why not turn chores into a grand, noble adventure? Sure, you could ask them to vacuum the living room, but that sounds like work. Instead, declare:
“You, young squire, have been chosen for the sacred quest of… THE VACUUMING.”
And just like that, your child is now a brave knight in a land filled with dirty floors. Have them charge through the living room, vacuuming for the glory of their kingdom. If they drag their feet, dramatically declare: “The dragon (the dirt) will continue to haunt our land!” You’ll be amazed at how quickly they will defeat the villainous dust bunnies to avoid the mythical creature’s wrath.
Step 2: The Art of Distraction (aka Bribery)
Somewhere between "I can't do it!" and "Please help me!" is the moment of weakness, when bribery becomes a viable strategy. Here’s the trick: never bribe upfront, or you’ll risk being labeled a “walking ATM”. Instead, create a chore-induced carrot-and-stick approach.
"Once you've finished your chores, you may choose between a cookie, a longer screen time, or—hold onto your seat—a full 30 seconds of my undivided attention."
You’ve never seen a child move faster. Suddenly, they’re so efficient you’d think they had been trained by military-grade boot camps.
Step 3: The Mysterious Power of The “Do It For the Dog” Speech
Have you ever noticed how your child will do anything for the dog? Why not harness that unnatural love? Stand there with hands on your hips and say, “Imagine how much more the dog would love you if you were to take out the trash, kiddo.”
Suddenly, they’ll be filled with an almost manic energy. The trash? Gone. The dog’s affection? Unquestionable.
If they seem skeptical, lower your voice to a dramatic whisper and say: “The dog is watching you… and waiting. Don’t disappoint her.”
It’s mind control, but with an adorable, furry twist.
Step 4: The Timer of Doom
This one is a personal favorite: The Timer of Doom. Start by setting a timer for two minutes and calmly saying, “We’re going to get all the dishes done before the bell rings!”
It’s like a game show they never signed up for: every second counts! Watch as your child scrambles around the kitchen, slamming dishes into the dishwasher as though they are competing for a cash prize. The best part? If they beat the timer, they get to be the hero of their own story. (“You were a dishwashing legend today!”)
If they don’t make it? Set a new timer and start the whole thing over, but this time include the dog as the official "timer" who will "judge their speed." That always helps.
Step 5: Make Them Think They’re In Charge (and Other Psychological Warfare)
Everyone loves power, right? So why not let them think they’re the ones choosing what to do? You could stand there demanding they do their homework, or you could hold up two chores and let them choose.
“I see you have a choice: will you conquer the mountain of laundry, or slay the dragon (dust) in the living room?”
You just gave them the illusion of control, and guess what? They’ll be way more likely to do it.
The only problem is you’ve tricked yourself into believing that they’ve made an independent decision while secretly pulling all the strings.
Step 6: Create an Impossible Amount of Tasks
Take your child’s chore and multiply it by a hundred. Tell them they have to dust the entire house, including the toaster, the microwave, and the baseboards under the fridge.
The magnitude of this job will overwhelm them in such a way that they will quickly complete the most basic tasks just to avoid dealing with the rest of the absurd demands.
Bonus points if you distract them with a chore that’s so trivial, they think they have done their “magnum opus.”
“Oh, I see you’ve cleaned the single shelf in the living room, but the laundry room still looks like a nuclear bomb hit it. Did you think that would be enough to escape the wrath of Chorezilla?”
Step 7: Be the Human Echo Chamber
Sometimes, all your child needs is a little repetition. A non-stop, unwavering chant that slowly breaks down their defenses.
“Put. The. Dishes. In. The. Dishwasher.”
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
It’s like chanting your way into submission. They can’t help but get caught in the loop, and the dishes will eventually find their way to the machine. For maximum effect, try to maintain complete monotony in your voice as though you are guiding them through a ritual of cosmic significance.
Step 8: You Have One Minute, 60 Seconds of Your Life to Give...
This final tactic works wonders if the kid is “just too tired” to tackle their chore. The key is to overwhelm them with short bursts of productivity. Here’s how:
“Listen, you only have to fold three towels. Three. You’ve got one minute. Can you do that in 60 seconds?”
The power of extremely low expectations combined with your undying faith in their abilities will spur them to action. You can almost see them whispering to themselves, “I am the hero of time management.”
Final Thoughts: Chores and Beyond
At the end of the day, getting your kids to do their chores is part science, part theatre, and 100% psychological warfare. But remember, you’re not just training them to clean a house; you’re molding future citizens who will one day clean their own homes and shovel their own snow—without you there to scream through clenched teeth, “FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING GOOD, PLEASE WASH THE DISHES!”
There you go! Chore time is now officially a battlefield where the weapons are creativity, distraction, and subtle manipulation. All in the name of getting your kids to do something useful. Let me know if you need more absurd strategies!
4o mini
You said:
Yes, I need more absurd stategies, and a funnier title and subtitle.
ChatGPT said:
Absolutely! Let’s take this up a notch with even more absurd strategies and a new, funny title to really set the tone!
Chapter 12: How to Get Kids to Do Chores (Without It Turning Into a Crime Scene)
Or: The Art of Making Your Children Think They’re In Control While You Run a Tiny Dictatorship
Step 9: The “I Guess You’re Just Too Busy” Strategy
This one is a true mind-bender. Simply walk into the room where your kid is lounging, doing absolutely nothing productive, and sigh loudly enough for them to hear. Then, drop this gem:
“You know, it’s fine, you’re obviously way too busy to help me out around the house. I’ll just keep cleaning these dirty dishes and folding these towels on my own—don’t worry about me!”
And just like that, they’ll snap into action. The guilt of being accused of doing nothing will hit them like a bag of bricks. Their desire to appear helpful (or not like a lazy bum) will send them into overdrive.
Bonus points if you add a dramatic, theatrical sigh and a slow, exaggerated walk toward the door—leaving them in a whirl of chaotic indecision about whether or not to help.
Step 10: The Shock and Awe of "Mystery Chores"
Want to make your kids run for their lives? Announce that you have “mystery chores” that need to be done. These are chores that they don’t know about, but you will reveal them upon completion. The thrill of the unknown will have them scrambling to tackle the things you’ve been meaning to do for ages.
“Today’s mystery chore is... scrub the bathroom sink with a toothbrush I definitely didn’t just find in your room.”
Suddenly, the mystery is so overwhelming they’ll feel compelled to clean the whole house, just to avoid your next cryptic task. Watch them scrub and sweep, terrified that a new, unexplained chore will pop up at any moment.
Step 11: The “I Thought You Were Just So Busy” Guilt Trip
This works especially well if they’re glued to their phones or some form of mind-numbing entertainment. Walk by them and casually remark:
“Oh, I thought you were too busy with all that… stuff you’re doing... that’s so important and… meaningful... to pitch in here.”
Pause for effect. Watch them squirm.
Then add: “I’ll just be over here, getting everything done by myself, while you… you know… change the world with that screen of yours.”
You won’t even need to finish the sentence before they’re off the couch, pretending they can’t live without doing the dishes, laundry, or whatever soul-crushing task you’ve put in front of them.
Step 12: The "You’ll Be the Hero" Manipulation
Want to see your kid’s ego inflated to unbelievable proportions? Tell them that doing the chores will make them the unsung hero of the family.
“Imagine, if you will, the glory of being the person who saves this house from the scourge of dirty dishes. You, the lone hero, sweeping in and rescuing the family from utter chaos.”
They’ll tackle the chores with superhuman speed, imagining themselves as a crusader of cleanliness. You can even add a cape made out of an old bath towel to seal the deal.
(And if that doesn’t work, maybe your dog can applaud them from the sidelines. If they’re not inspired by that, there’s nothing left to do but call in the big guns—cookies.)
Step 13: The Extreme “Reverse Psychology Olympics”
If your kid resists doing a chore, reverse psychology can sometimes work wonders. But you need to really commit to it.
“You probably can’t do it. I mean, it’s such a hard task. You could clean the whole kitchen, but it’s really just too much for you.”
Watch their face fall as they prepare to prove you wrong. The competition in their mind is now raging: who can clean faster, you or them?
If they seem hesitant, go even further: “You’re probably just not ready to be an actual responsible person yet.”
Don’t even try to hide the smugness in your voice as they tear into their chore, all because you’ve dared to question their ability.
Step 14: The “Let Me Just Do It Myself” Gambit
Sometimes, you’ve just got to give them the ultimate gift: doing it yourself.
When your child is purposefully avoiding chores, simply start doing it—not with a heavy sigh or dramatic flair, but with the **calm determination of someone who has no time for nonsense. Watch their eyes widen as you get to work.
“Well, I guess I’ll just fold this laundry... all by myself... no big deal…”
You can bet they’ll spring into action before the laundry basket is even halfway emptied.
Step 15: The “Golden Ticket” (Or the “Spoonful of Sugar”)
Every chore comes with a prize, right? So why not create a token system? For each chore they complete, they earn one Golden Ticket, which they can later redeem for something ridiculous.
“You’ve earned 3 Golden Tickets—time to choose: a piggyback ride around the yard, or a single gummy bear from the top of the fridge.”
The absurdity of this will keep them coming back for more Golden Tickets, and before you know it, they’ll be racing to finish their chores in the hopes of receiving something as silly as a one-minute cuddle session or a single M&M.
(You get the picture.)
Conclusion:
At the end of the day, getting kids to do chores is like playing chess with a raccoon—you never know if you’re winning or losing, and there are probably snacks involved somewhere. But with a little creativity, manipulation, and an absurd sense of humor, you’ll make sure your house stays clean—and your kids stay mildly entertained while doing the bare minimum. It’s a win-win. Sort of.
Contributors to this Chapter:
The cavalcade of lifeless literary luminaries marches on!
Mortimer G. Soggins
"Mortimer G. Soggins is the undisputed master of literary inertia. His widely overlooked book, The Day the Mail Never Came, is a poignant tale of a man checking his empty mailbox for an entire summer. Soggins’s sentences crawl with all the urgency of molasses in January, and his descriptions of the mailbox are so exhaustive they feel like an architectural survey. By the final chapter, readers are left wondering if Soggins is a genius of subtlety—or just really committed to boredom."
Prudence H. Nothingley
"Prudence H. Nothingley’s novels explore the quiet art of waiting—for something, for anything. Her best-known work, The Garden That Didn’t Bloom, spends 800 pages documenting a patch of dirt where flowers refuse to grow. Nothingley’s prose is described as ‘impressively consistent,’ as every sentence feels like it’s treading water in an ocean of monotony. Her books are often sold with bookmarks because readers rarely make it past page 20."
Cyril P. Flattison
"Cyril P. Flattison’s novels are for those who find roller coasters of emotion entirely overrated. His debut, A Chair in the Corner, is a riveting account of a chair and the man who sits in it—for years. Flattison’s narrative technique, which can only be described as ‘glacial,’ ensures that readers have plenty of time to contemplate their own life choices between paragraphs. By the end of his books, one thing is clear: Flattison is a writer who believes that if less is more, nothing is everything."
Winifred Q. Drearling
"Winifred Q. Drearling’s novels are so devoid of action that even her punctuation feels fatigued. Her masterpiece, The Clock That Stopped Ticking, is a daring exploration of a broken clock and the people who don’t fix it. Drearling’s writing is celebrated by critics who value stillness above all else, while casual readers tend to mistake her books for doorstops. One reviewer noted, ‘Reading Drearling’s work is like staring at a sunset that refuses to end—it’s pretty, but at some point, you want to move on.’"
Alastair B. Snootmore
"Alastair B. Snootmore is a writer so committed to understatement that his books barely acknowledge their own existence. His acclaimed failure, The Dust That Gathered on the Shelf, is a sweeping epic of inaction, narrated by a man too lazy to dust. Snootmore’s prose is famously unremarkable, described as ‘so subtle it feels like it’s trying to disappear.’ His characters do nothing, his plots go nowhere, and his readers are left wondering if they’ve stumbled upon the literary equivalent of a screensaver."
Cordelia W. Blahly
"Cordelia W. Blahly’s books are the literary equivalent of a lukewarm cup of tea—comforting, in a way, but completely forgettable. Her debut, The Carpet That Stayed Exactly Where It Was, explores the unchanging life of a family that never moves anything or goes anywhere. Blahly’s writing has been praised for its ‘invisible beauty,’ meaning it’s so subtle that you barely notice you’re reading. Her books are perfect for those who enjoy the sensation of waiting for something exciting to happen—and being pleasantly disappointed."
Eustace P. Humbuggery
"Eustace P. Humbuggery’s novels are so understated that they make whispering seem loud. His magnum opus, The Envelope That Wasn’t Opened, is a meticulous account of a letter left unread on a desk for decades. Humbuggery’s prose is an ode to hesitation, and his pacing is best described as ‘sedated.’ Critics often say his work invites readers to ponder life’s smaller moments, though most admit they’d rather not."
Maudeline C. Witherplinth
"Maudeline C. Witherplinth’s novels are masterpieces of non-engagement. Her breakout book, A Pebble in a Drawer, chronicles the life of a small stone placed in a desk and never touched again. Witherplinth’s writing style has been likened to ‘watching a drip of water dry on a countertop,’ with a plot that evaporates before your very eyes. Her fans—if they exist—insist her work is an acquired taste, much like tepid tea that’s been left out too long."
Horatio L. Dronely
"Horatio L. Dronely’s books are the literary equivalent of listening to a refrigerator hum. His most ponderous work, The Room That Stayed Quiet, delves into the profound nothingness of a silent parlor. Dronely’s characters are so passive they barely seem conscious, and his plots could double as instructions for watching paint dry. One reader remarked, ‘It’s like life stood still and decided not to bother getting up.’"
Seraphina P. Fogward
"Seraphina P. Fogward’s novels are so delicate that even a mild breeze might scatter their pages. Her magnum opus, The Leaf That Never Fell, is a breathtakingly uneventful tale of a tree branch that stubbornly holds onto its foliage. Fogward’s prose is as light as air and twice as forgettable, leaving readers with the distinct impression they’ve dreamed her books rather than read them. Perfect for insomniacs seeking instant relief."
Barnaby Q. Ploddington
"Barnaby Q. Ploddington’s writing is a love letter to the mundane. His bestselling flop, The Spoon That Wasn’t Stirred, is a riveting deep dive into a teacup’s stillness. Ploddington’s genius lies in his ability to turn every potential action into a missed opportunity, creating an experience that’s equal parts meditative and maddening. By the final page, readers are left wondering if the spoon moved—or if they imagined the whole thing."
Henrick M. Dimblethorp
"Henrick M. Dimblethorp is the literary king of unremarkable moments. His most infamous novel, The Cloud That Didn’t Drift, is a 900-page exploration of a single puff of vapor suspended in the sky. Dimblethorp’s attention to detail is so extreme that readers have been known to abandon his books halfway through out of sheer exhaustion. ‘It’s like staring at a perfectly still pond,’ one reviewer noted. ‘Peaceful, until you realize you’ve wasted your entire afternoon.’"
Myrtle P. Fidgetstock
"Myrtle P. Fidgetstock specializes in crafting stories so uneventful they border on avant-garde. Her breakout bore, The Candle That Didn’t Burn, follows a family as they stare at an unlit candle for years. Fidgetstock’s prose meanders like a lost hiker, while her plots dissolve faster than a sugar cube in lukewarm water. Her novels are celebrated in niche literary circles, mostly as cautionary tales about the dangers of over-describing nothing."
Thaddeus W. Lullington
"Thaddeus W. Lullington’s novels are so devoid of energy they might as well be literary hibernation. His crowning achievement, The Window That Wasn’t Opened, is a slow-motion epic of indecision as a man contemplates fresh air but ultimately does nothing. Lullington’s prose moves with the urgency of a turtle crossing a glacier, and his characters are so unmotivated they might as well be furniture. Critics have called his books ‘a bold experiment in testing readers’ patience,’ though most call them a test they failed."
Ophelia M. Stillwater
"Ophelia M. Stillwater’s novels are triumphs of uneventfulness. Her acclaimed yawn, The Pen That Didn’t Write, examines the life of a fountain pen left untouched on a desk for decades. Stillwater’s gift for detail ensures that even the tiniest scratch on the pen’s surface is explored in excruciating depth. Her fans appreciate her meditative style, while her critics suggest her books should come with a pillow."