Maggie Hauls Mulch: Helping my parents do yardwork

I consider myself an academic, to a degree, but there's really nothing more satisfying than doing an honest day's work.

I mean like labor work.  Don't get me wrong, I get damn close to moksha when I finish a huge paper, but I collapse into bed with pure, delighted exhaustion the way I do after I spend two days hauling mulch for my parents.  Which is pretty much what I did.

My parents are spiffing up our back garden for the summer (yeah, I live at home), and that meant two trailer loads of dirty, stinky, soggy mulch.  For reasons still unknown, I volunteered to help.  This meant several hours of standing in a rickety old trailer attached to a rickety old Chevy Blazer, muscling mulch into a rickety old wheelbarrow with a pitchfork, and then hauling it down a hill, dumping it into the back garden, and hauling it right back up to start all over again.  Pretty much the only variation in the event was the tone or accent I used to holler "MULCH!" at my dad and the location he designated for the mulch dumping.

It was really, really fun.

I'm serious.  Working up a sweat, tiring out your muscles, getting utterly filthy, and (honestly) making your parents proud.  It's really satisfying.  Yeah, so maybe it's gross when you head inside and realize that your entire skin is coated with a film of sweat, mulch dust, and bug spray.  Maybe it's embarrassing to explain the state of your fingernails to your very posh boss at your upscale retail job later that day.  Maybe your back aches a little the next morning.

But the garden looks awesome.  And your parents think you're super cool.

I guess that's the point I'm trying to make.  Helping out your parents just because feels really good.  They really appreciate it when you take the time to do something for them, something for the house.  It's a great gesture, considering everything they've done and everything they've sacrificed and all the money they've spent for you.  My mom has cleaned up my vomit, listened to me cry hysterically over the phone, and French-braided my hair.  My dad has maintained family cars, mowed the lawn, and listened to my rants about his other children.  I think I can take a few hours out of my Memorial Day weekend to haul some damn mulch.

Pro tip: if you have lazy siblings, like I do, you can feel all haughty when you're helping out and your brother and sister are inside doing nothing.  MAJOR kid points, guys.  I'm just sayin'.

Haulingly yours,

Maggie