Our mother was born in a tiny southern Indiana town named Marengo. Every summer we would go with her on a Greyhound bus for a trip down memory lane. Our bachelor Great Uncle Emery would pick us up and we moved in on him taking his small home over for ourselves.
He had no indoor plumbing so you had to use the outhouse. Water was brought by bucket from the spring. Mary, always being the guest, refused to do any of the everyday chores and expected Uncle Emery to do it all. He was a kind old man and always acted happy to see us.
He would take us into town where we spent the day visiting (bothering) all of our relatives. If it was lunch time, Mary thought nothing of barging right in and sitting down at the table, asking what was for lunch. We ate many a meal being treated as royalty, as we never lifted a finger to help. The example she set was that when you were a guest, you should not insult the host by spending time with menial chores.
If they had a porch swing, my sister and I would see how high we could get the swing to go before breaking anything. If they had candy, and offered us a piece, I would jam my pockets full so I had some treats for later. Our manners left a lot to be desired.