Spices

I’ve been known, on the rare occasion, to bend our homeschool curriculum to suit my own needs for the day. I’ll ask the kids to help me scrub mold off the shower door and call it “Science”. I’ll wrangle them into addressing my Christmas cards and call it “Social Studies.” Or “Handwriting.” And it’s not beneath me to occasionally bargain, “Mommy has a sore back. Give me a 15-minute shoulder rub, I’ll let you skip math for today.” I actually only did that once, when I’d slept in a weird position on the previous night. At other times, we buckle down and cover a lot of ground on all subjects, so it evens out over the school year.

I decided the other day that my spice shelf needed organizing. I have literally 46 jars of spices, although I only use about 5 on a regular basis. Some I hardly ever touch, such as turmeric, which I bought to use in a recipe 7 years ago and haven’t needed since. So if anyone out there needs to borrow some turmeric, come on over, because I have plenty.

My spice shelf was beginning to distress me. Greatly. It had become messy and cluttered, and I hadn’t had a spare moment to clean it out. I was starting to buy spices I already had because I couldn’t find them in the chaos. So I asked my 13-year-old son, Rock Star, to organize the spices for me. Alphabetizing while learning the names of the various spices could be considered “Language Arts” and “World Studies” rolled into one. Maybe even “Chemistry.” He’d learn while organizing, and I’d also benefit! It was a win/win situation. So it seemed.

Rock Star is a typical teenage boy. He has a lot of great qualities, God love him. He’s gentle, sweet and loving. An easy child to raise, for the most part. But a challenge and a half to homeschool. His work ethic leaves much to be desired. Hopefully that will change as he matures, but I have my doubts. If he could stare out the window all day in lieu of getting a good education, he’d be happy. He could care less about The French and Indian War. He is not intrigued with learning the molecular structure of hydrochloric acid. He has no use for finding a prepositional phrase. And he is most definitely not interested in spices.

There are four things that appeal to Rock Star: His guitar, his iPod, his MySpace page, and girls. And, while I wouldn’t call him lazy, he’s not what I’d consider a “self-starter.” He needs explicit instructions. FOR EVERYTHING. Like the time I asked him to put the bagged salad into the salad bowl for dinner. And at dinner time, on the table, there sat the salad, still in the bag, in the bowl.

I left Rock Star to tackle the spice shelf, albeit reluctantly, while I did school with Little Squirt, my 5-year-old. A quick 2-minutes later, Rock Star proudly announced he’d completed the task, and was off to check his MySpace. “Way to go!” I praised him, thinking how grateful I was that he’d finished a project I had been stressing over for so long. I looked forward to a brand-new organized spice shelf. Maybe I’d even cook something fabulous for dinner in celebration!

A few minutes later, I opened the cabinet door, and sat staring at my spice shelf , perplexed and confused. What the ????? Expecting to find neatly organized “Allspice, Anise, Basil”, etc., I stared in bewilderment at “Oregano, Red Pepper Flakes, Ginger, Poultry Seasoning, etc……” “Caraway” followed “Rubbed Sage.” “Garlic powder” stood next to “Thyme.” My heart sank as I pictured having to review the alphabet with my 8th-grader. Clearly I had failed as his homeschool teacher. Massively.

I called him into the kitchen. “I thought you said you alphabetized these!” I said, exasperated. “I DID!” he responded, incredulously. I asked him to explain. Speaking to me very slowly, as though I was mentally disabled, he said, “The Jewels come first, then The McCormicks, then The Shopper’s Values.”

Apparently he had his own “system.” Alphabetizing by brands. Like I said: Needs. Explicit. Instructions.