Unload the Dishwasher
While we’re on the subject of the summer of 1998, that’s also the time and place I received my greatest career advice to date.
I was, I believe, a fairly proficient babysitter -- at least as far as any teenager can be. No one incurred irreparable bodily harm under my watch -- though I did, very briefly, lose a child who was hiding in a refrigerator. I generally cared about the children in my custody and, importantly, procured snacks from patrons’ pantries at the appropriate rate.
There were a couple of summers where I babysat for the same family. This was a wonderful family. One night the parents came home after I had successfully ensured that the children were in bed. This was the era before cell phones, so I have exactly no idea what I’d been up to between the point when I’d put the children to bed and when the parents got home. What I can tell you, for sure, is what I hadn’t done: I had not unloaded the dishwasher.
I don’t remember exactly what the words of the exchange were. The tone was very kind and the sentiment was crystal clear. The parent said, you are a very good babysitter. If you want to be an great babysitter, you would look around to see what else could be done and you would notice that the dishwasher could have been unloaded.
She was exactly right. And with every job since then I’ve thought about that interaction.
What thing have I not been asked to do that I could do and create value?
In college, I babysat for another wonderful family. They hired me on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and typically on one weekend night each week. I would put the kids to bed, then wash the dishes and tidy the things that needed tidying. The parents were always so grateful. It’s the least I can do, I’d say.
And I meant it. It was the least I could do to put away a few toys and a few dishes.
It’s actually not that hard to go beyond meeting expectations. And it makes all the difference.
What’s interesting is as I reflect on this lesson now, going above and beyond is rarely about physical tasks. These days, it looks more like investing the emotional energy to be available and open and understanding and kind.
How about you? What does unloading the dishwasher look like these days?
(And, at risk of sounding like a goodie two shoes, I’d like to admit to the college family that on more than one occasion I forgot to brush the toddler’s teeth. And also I was terrified of the geriatric cat.)
