Damn dishes: what would Supernanny do?

Why is there a bar of Cadbury Coconut Rough Chocolate taped way up my kitchen wall? I can't blame you for wondering . . . this is my solution to the pile of dirty dishes that mounts up here despite the fact that four people live in the house, each one capable of washing and drying a few dishes.

I got the idea off one of the "naughty children taming" programmes which are frequenting our television channels more and more these days.

I confess to harbouring a slightly disturbing predilection for viewing these shows, usually with my 13-year-old daughter. We look at each other aghast and just can't believe how naughty those children are and how useless the parents are, and how could she treat her mother like that . . . all the while silently congratulating ourselves for being such paragons of mother and daughterhood. Meanwhile the dishes remain undone, festering in the sink until the morning when the eventual loser of the customary dishes fight will be forced to unwillingly complete the task.

Then I discovered a trail of little tiny poohs on the windowsill. A mouse must have heard a rumour about our low standard of housework and decided to capitalise on the nightly smorgasbord freely offered on the bench. And so I decided we had pushed things too far, obviously someone had to step in and do something. This whole situation has developed from me being unwilling to police and enforce the doing of household chores and by being too distracted by farm work to do much myself (that is my excuse and I am sticking to it). I guess I have assumed that the teenage members of the household would see what needs to be done and do it without coercion; unfortunately this has not happened.

The kids suggested implementing a roster system and I was tempted, but could to easily see it descending into a complex and ridiculous fight which I would no doubt be required to referee and logical and sensible as that roster would seem, I still don't want to go there. I don't know what it is like in your household but the minute a request is put in here to do dishes distractions and difficulties immediately arise. Such as:

"OK, I s'pose I will do them but I'm only gonna wash."

"But I want to wash."

"You always wash, I hate drying . . . I won't do them if I have to dry!"

"You never do them and you don't dry, you just leave them on the bench."

"Well you don't wash them properly anyway and I hate you!"

"You are dumb and I hate you."

"You are both dumb and I hate both of you and I am going to go and milk now and if there are any dishes on the bench when I get home then I will really read the riot act."

And suddenly everyone has expended a great deal more negative energy on the fighting than it would have taken to just quietly do the dishes and get on with it.

I didn't get the chocolate idea off Jo Frost, although I really admire that woman for getting to the crux of the family issues. Rarely is it the children causing problems on Supernanny. It's the mums and dads that have to change their ways.

I went to the more extreme parenting show, Bad Behaviour, where the English psychologist Warwick Dyer suggests giving unbelievably bad kids a pound a day pocket money but taking it off them penny by penny as a consequence of undesirable behaviour. You wouldn't think this simple method would work but if the show is to be believed then the technique appears to turn bad-mouthed, matricidal offspring into obedient angels within days - and all I want is a few dishes done.

I chose a bar of chocolate as the bribe instead and taped it high up on the wall so the mouse couldn't get it, announcing that whoever did the dishes the most within a week would receive the chocolate as their reward. A sheet of paper and a felt pen were also stuck to the wall ready to record the results.

Now you wouldn't think this would work. Realistically, Simon and Danni are 18 years old and both have jobs so they could easily buy their own chocolate. At 13, Stevie relies on me for pocket money and treats so she is probably more susceptible to the bribery, but would she fall for it? One week down the track and we're all falling for it, even me.

Like typical Kiwis the kids all tried to buck the system at first.

"Does washing and drying two spoons count?" asked Simon hopefully.

"If me and Simon wash and dry can we each have a point?" Danni asked.

But some quick law-making on my part defined the limits and there hasn't been a dirty dish seen on our bench since.

Sibling rivalry has become a major factor in the plan's success. Danni doesn't care so much about the chocolate bar but doesn't want to be beaten by her sister. Stevie got stuck right in and got her name up about five times but foolishly left the premises and stayed at her cousin's place for a few days, allowing her sister a chance to come back.

After initial enthusiasm Simon saw through it all and only has his name up to announce Simon has not done the dishes; this may backfire in week two as proof of slothfulness. My name is up there a couple of times because I didn't want to open myself up for any accusations of slackness and, to be honest, I'd quite like that bar of chocolate - it looks quite yummy stuck away up there.

There was a skinny and disappointed mouse seen hitch- hiking up our road the other day, off to find a house with a few crumbs and some dirty dishes on the bench.