Stop Calling Chores a 'Favour': Why One Parent Is Changing How Her Family Talks About Housework

They think washing the dishes means they've patted my back.
The writer says calling chores favours has taught her children to expect repayment for housework.
Mark

Why does one word, favour, matter this much?

Mimi

Because of what it implies. She says a favour makes her the only person who benefits, so her kids feel they're lending a hand rather than doing their part.

Mark

And she blames herself for that.

Mimi

Yes. She says this one is all on her. She's the one who taught them to expect it.

Luke

Worth noting this is an opinion essay. It's one household, her own account, and there's no evidence her kids actually think this way beyond her read of them.

Mark

She does bring in data, though.

Mimi

A 2015 Statistics Canada report, saying women do nearly three more hours of unpaid labour at home than men.

Luke

Careful there. That figure is about women and men. Her aside that it presumably includes kids is her inference, not the report's finding.

Mark

What does she plan to say instead?

Mimi

Direct assignments. Your turn for the recycling. If nobody sets the table, nobody eats.

Luke

And will it work? Nobody knows. She hasn't reported results, only intentions.

Mimi

She also admits her own earlier fix, an 'I owe you one' system, mostly produced frustration.

  • A mother realizes that her habit of asking for 'a favour' has taught her children that housework is a gift to her, not a shared duty.
  • The household's daily rhythm of dishes, laundry and errands has quietly become a ledger of gratitude and resentment.
  • She reaches for charts, allowances and clear expectations, then turns to rewording her requests into direct assignments.
  • Her new phrasing is still an experiment, and whether her children will see themselves as contributing members of the family remains unresolved.

Every household runs on small, ordinary requests, and a single mother writing for CBC in January 2020 notices that the wording of hers has been teaching her children a quiet and mistaken lesson. Her chores, framed as favours, cast her as the sole beneficiary of their effort rather than as members of a shared home. Her reflection sits within a wider human pattern, documented by Statistics Canada in 2015, in which women carry nearly three more hours of unpaid domestic work each day than men. She is now testing whether a plainer, more direct language of expectation can turn help into contribution.

The requests are small and ordinary. Can you set the table? Do me a favour and grab milk on the way home. In a January 2020 CBC parenting essay, one writer argues that these everyday phrases have been teaching her family the wrong lesson.

She only recently noticed the pattern. Her children, and to some extent her husband, have come to expect her to run the house, and she concludes that she trained them to. By framing every task as a favour, she led them to believe that helping at home meant helping her rather than the household. Emptying the dishwasher, a job they should simply do, became a kindness to her instead of a contribution to a home that might otherwise slide into chaos.

She does not resent the role. She is good at managing the home and mostly enjoys it. But she sees that the favour language has made her the one who benefits, and her children now treat chores as something to be thanked for, perhaps one day collected on with a "now you pat mine." She has already tried the standard systems of charts and allowances, and her own "I owe you one" approach produced mostly parental frustration.

She places her experience within a wider pattern. Statistics Canada found in 2015 that women do nearly three more hours of unpaid domestic work daily than men, and she assumes that gap reaches into children's lives too. She wants her children to understand that housework rebalances the load and supports the well-being of everyone in the home.

So she is changing her words. "Child A, it's your turn to take out the recycling." "Child B, what could you do to make the house neat before company arrives?" She hopes these direct requests will be enough, and that she will never need the more joking last resort. Whether the new language changes anything is still unknown, and she ends by asking readers, as a favour, what they think.

The sentences are small and ordinary. Can you do me a favour and set the table? Can you help me bring the laundry downstairs? Do me a favour and grab milk on your way home. In a CBC parenting essay published in January 2020, one writer argues that these everyday requests have been quietly teaching her family the wrong lesson.

She says she only recently noticed the pattern. Her children, and to some extent her husband, expect her to run the house, and she concludes she trained them to. By framing every task as a favour, she has led them to believe that when they do something at home, they are helping her rather than helping the household.

She traces her role as the family's main manager of domestic responsibilities to a big cross-province move and lifestyle change eight years ago. She doesn't resent it. She says she is good at it and, with a few exceptions, enjoys it. The problem, as she sees it, is that asking for favours made her the sole beneficiary in her children's eyes. Emptying the dishwasher, a job they should be doing anyway, became a kindness to her instead of a contribution to keeping the home from sliding into chaos. She writes that she tries not to take credit for what her kids have learned, but this lesson is entirely her doing.

The cost, in her telling, is a kind of ledger. Her children now treat washing dishes as a pat on her back, one they may eventually collect on with a "now you pat mine." She says she already pats plenty of backs. She notes that the standard advice, such as charts, allowances, set times and clear expectations, is easy to find. Her own contribution, a system she calls "I owe you one," produced little beyond low-level parental rage and a longing for the years when her kids were three and thought washing dishes in the sink was fun.

She places her household inside a wider pattern. Women do more domestic work, she writes, and it has been heavily documented. She cites a 2015 Statistics Canada report finding that women do nearly three more hours of unpaid labour at home than men, a gap she assumes extends to kids as well. She also points to the invisible load of planning carpools and tracking holiday to-do lists, which she says may even be contributing to mental health problems. She does not plan to hand those jobs to her children. But she wants them to understand that taking on housework helps rebalance the scales and adds to the home's functioning and the well-being of the people in it.

So she is changing her wording. She admits she isn't sure how she fell into asking for favours, since she calls herself fairly bossy with high expectations of her family. As a writer, she knows language matters, and she wonders whether the advice to "ask for what I need" backfired here. Her replacements are direct. Child A, it's your turn to take out the recycling. Child B, what could you do to make the house neat before company arrives? If nobody sets the table, nobody eats. And a fourth, which is plainly a joke: you are all ungrateful and I quit.

She hopes the first two will work well enough that she never needs the last two. Her larger aim is for her children to see themselves as productive members of the family, without expecting more payback than a comfortable, calm home. Whether the new phrasing changes anything is untested, and she closes by asking readers, as a favour, to tell her what they think.

She says her children now treat doing chores as a favour they can later collect on, and that this habit is her own doing.
— CBC essay writer
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