When did work become fun?

My daughter explained to me that I cannot use "work" as a negative, whereas she can.  It shall now be required that I say I'm having "fun" rather than I am "working."  She says I am never unhappy while doing my work.  

I laughed uncontrollably for quite a while after her revelation.  This was particularly egregious because we had been having a serious (slightly agitated) discussion on the topic of work that needed to be done.  Watching the consternation on her face only drove me further into the depths of my mirth.  She should have been immediately satisfied because her words were 100% true and I could not in any way refute them.  

What a startling realization it was for me.  I enjoyed working.  What was wrong with me?  Who on earth had messed with my brain and made work into play?  Did my mother do this to me?  I know she was always trying to make me do my work with a glad heart in spite of my strong desire to complain and avoid the things I didn't want to do.  Was it God?  In Ecclesiastes 5:18-20 it clearly states God has given us the power to rejoice in our labour.  When did this transformation take place?  How did I become so contented?

Dish duty.

As a young girl I resisted work with all my heart, unless it was something I wanted to do, then I was all in.  Typical.  Work doesn't feel like work when you want to do it.  In my college years, I learned how much I LOVED to have a clean living environment.  It was still hard to get myself to do the dishes after every meal and always put away my clothes, but I did it and the endorphin rush which came from seeing a clean house was enough.  My years with babies and young children were rough.  The house was nowhere near spotless and there was never enough time to finish the "work."  I admit to regressing in these years and work was becoming unpleasant again. But then my youngest hit 5 years old.  I could do things by myself again!  I could read books, and sew, and paint, and shower!  I could get the kids to "help" clean the house....  And thus began my intended indoctrination of their little minds concerning "work" being "fun."

My daughter's revelation snapped my attention back to my own childhood.  This is where my mother was when I was a teen.  This moment in my life where I go to the sink to do dishes and sing a song, or go to the back yard to pull weeds while contemplating my next art project, or fold laundry while chatting merrily with my family, this moment is what my mother wanted for me.  Her indoctrination of my mind is complete.  She won!  I'm amazed at the length of time it took for her to see the fruits of her labour.  Did she know it would take so long?

So I guess it's okay if my daughters aren't in the same place mentally right now.  It will probably take them another 20 years to get here....  

Carry on, mamas and papas!  All good things come to those who wait (and to those who doggedly keep on reminding their children that work doesn't have to be miserable)!

Work is no longer work for me.  I think this calls for a celebration.  I've leveled up in life.  "Work" is now "fun."

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