Efficiency Expert

Being efficient is a rewarding accomplishment.  There's a certain pride in having a systematic, well-run house.  I haven't acquired it yet, but I expect to, soon. 

What's taken me so long is that for years I've been deluding myself.  I thought list keeping was a proof of efficiency: I wrote list after list.  Some were entitled "To Wear."  Under that heading I jotted all the things I wanted to put on for school.  I couldn't afford any of them, but it was a comfort to have them so neatly written down.

And every week I'd faithfully pencil all the items I had to buy at the supermarket.  Although I kept leaving this list on the refrigerator, I didn't consider it a complete waste of effort.  For one thing, it made a wonderful check on my memory once I got the packages home.  And it also served as a good basis for still another list, headed "Things Yet to Be Shopped For."  But I've noticed lately that matters around here are still disorganized.  So after much thought I've decided to borrow an idea from the business world, that hotbed of efficiency.

They call it the requisition system.  Now my children won't be pleading with me to buy them a robot commando, a real walkie-talkie, their own color TV, or ermine-lined ice skates.  Instead they can fill out requisition slips for these items.

I'll want those papers in triplicate, of course.  One copy for them (they have trouble remembering their urgent needs from one week to the next), one copy for their grandparents (who enjoy catering to offbeat whims), and one for just filing.  I think it means something when you've filled out a form in triplicate to know it'll be filed.  It helps motivate you to go on filling out forms.  This is important.  My kids will have to make their way in the world someday, and this kind of training will ensure their success.

I borrowed a concept from the military too.  That's another group well known for its efficiency‑-just look at all the wars we've been in.  So the practice of kitchen details will be instituted.  If my little warriors are ever inducted, the sergeant will seem like a mother to them.  And he, at least, will never find his shoes sticking to the linoleum because of a cracker and jam feast.  The military background I'll have supplied will tell.

And the kids are going to learn to move fast, too.  They'll have to.  Our six ant colonies have made picking up crumbs a real challenge.  Their timing is better than ours, and when it comes to organized maneuvers and superior signaling, they set an astonishing example.  If the kids can do half as well on scrounging out crumbs, their career in the quartermaster corps is assured.

Nor is that all.  Their early training from me may very well keep them on the right side of the commanding officers.  You never know but what some crotchety old colonel may want butter kept in the refrigerator.  Surely I can't be the only crank on this.  Something inside me just snaps when I see a high priced spread ooze over its tray and onto my couch.  But no more palatable puddles.  The boys will snap to with military dispatch and move the butter off the heater.  With sharp precision they'll open the refrigerator and place it where it belongs‑-right next to the egg bin, where the "Silly Putty" is kept.

As for me, I intend to pull myself together as well.  Starting a week from Thursday, I will no longer keep the sox that need mending inside the dryer.  In the interests of saving time, I'm throwing them all out.  Whoever heard of an efficiency expert darning sox?  As I say, being systematic offers many rewards.