As a kid, my brother and I rarely had to do any hard labor. In fact, my only memory of chores other than keeping my room clean was helping my aunt paint her garage. I think I lasted 30 minutes. While my parents surely had the best intentions, as an adult it’s had some interesting repercussions. I don’t have the confidence to fix anything. The physical labor that home-owning requires is a daunting task (i.e painting, hanging a ceiling fan). With John working so much out of the house, the “honey do” list has fallen to me much more than I ever thought. Sure, he’s still out there re-screening our patio, but lawn-mowing, painting, and some minor repairs have landed in my lap this past year. And, it usually takes a good week for me to work up my nerve to try something new when John’s not home. Which is a good time to do it since I usually send my very proficient Mr. Fix-It into convulsions over my inept ways. Luckily, he’s training up our kids in the way of labor, in addition to all our other training in Bible and school. So, one day, when I’ve gathered the nerve to change out the blinds, I’ll have 3 kids helping me do it.