Now’s The Time To Get Your Kids Involved With Chores
by Alexander Tidd
Let me tell you a story. Not long ago, I set my nearly four-year-old son up at the kitchen counter with a sponge, ready to wash dishes with me after lunch. But then he splashed water everywhere, knocked over a number of dishes I shouldn’t have put in front of him, and I ran out of patience. I told him to go play and grabbed the sponge to do the work myself. Along the way, I missed the point entirely.
Turns out that’s a classic mistake many parents make. We love the idea of teaching responsibility. We want to do the right thing. But we expect too much. We expect speed. We expect efficiency. And we forget that our kids are learning—not because they’re lazy or sloppy—but because that’s how they grow.
Why Kid Chores Matter
Research backs this up. Kids who do housework develop better motor skills, confidence, and executive function. Those multi-step chores build planning muscles and give a sense of accomplishment. Fold a shirt, toss it in a drawer—you’ve made chaos into order. That's a win, even if the a shirt isn’t folded just so.
Developmental psychologists say chores are the social glue that lets kids feel part of a team. When a child helps unload dishes or feed a pet, they feel included. They matter. They belong. And that sense of belonging is as important for their emotional health as learning ABCs.
So I’m changing how I do things. I realized that tossing a towel in their general direction and calling it done just means I did half the job. And taking over when they’re struggling teaches them their help doesn't count unless it’s perfect.
Now my motto is “mess before mastery.” My kid splashes the water. That’s okay. That soap ends up in places I wouldn’t choose. But it’s their water, their soap, their moment. Hopefully someday this will mean he doesn’t hesitate when I say “let’s clean up.”
And here’s a bonus I didn’t expect. Cleaning up together has turned into our little ritual. I play goofy tunes while he scrubs plastic and metal dishes, then I step in to finish cleaning the ceramics and glass. We dance in the suds. It’s our version of teaming up to fix the world, one fork at a time.
A Few Tips
Here are easy ways I’ve learned to include my kid in chores—and keep both of us sane and maybe even smiling:
Keep it real and simple
Give them just one bowl or pot. Not the whole sink. Let them go as fast (or slow) as they can. They’ll learn it’s not about speed.Skip the lecture
Instead of saying remember to scrub properly, I say “What’s your favorite part? Learning or rinsing?” Let them choose focus.Make it fun
Use a timer and race. Pretend the sponge is a superhero. Play “gunk patrol.” If it’s funny, they’ll keep coming back.Celebrate effort
Not perfect plates but clean hands. Not shirt folded straight but folded. If they did it, it matters.Invite them to teach
Let them be the “expert” for a minute. Maybe he shows me how to stack forks or squirt the soap. It boosts his confidence and makes it fun again.
Every time we do it together, I see his focus grow. He doesn’t get bored after two seconds. He shows me that he learns by doing. It’s not quick. But it’s real and sticky and gets into his bones.
What we’re teaching each other goes beyond chores. It’s life. It’s how to fail without shame and try again. How to feel proud of your work, even if it isn’t perfect. That sense of pride isn’t going to come from trophies or tests—it’ll come from things you built and helped clean.
And yes, some mornings I still snap. I still wipe a countertop after he’s tried. But then I pause. I explain later. “Hey buddy, remember yesterday we talked about letting you try—and you did a great job—so I should’ve let you rinse more. I’m sorry.” That apology matters more than a clean countertop.
The Dish Pile Isn’t Going Away—But Neither Are We
So here we are, my kid and I, splashing in the afternoon suds, making a mess. But underneath that chaos, there’s something important growing—confidence, self-worth, a real sense of belonging.
I want him to know he’s part of this home and he shares responsibility for building it and taking care of it. He belongs here with me and mom, knowing our shared life is something he’s invested in.