My youngest came in my folks' house yesterday crying. “Grampa fired me!” He and his brother had been working in the yard with Grampa.
Dad said that M hadn't been doing anything. M said he was trying.
On the way home I explained to both of them some personal prejudices Grampa and I have. That is, if you can't work without complaining then you don't know how to work. If you don't make a visible effort that actually acheieves something, you aren't trying. And that you need to know how to work to survive in this world. I talked a lot on the subject.
When we got home, they had to do three sets of chores. They did them without complaining. Then I told the oldest he and his brother had to clean the media room. He threw himself on a pillow on the floor, yelled, and rolled around. He got to clean the room by himself. (That's another rule. If you complain, you get twice as much work.)
The boys are wonderful. I want them to stay that way.