I’ve always believed you can tell a lot about a home, and the family that lives there, by the kitchen.

The same can be said about a workplace.

Like many offices, The Evening Sun newsroom is equipped with a kitchenette. This is where the morning coffee is brewed, fragrant leftovers are both stored and re-heated, and the requisite water cooler conversations take place.

Until a few months ago, the continued care and cleanliness of our corner kitchen was overseen by the lovely Jan. My office mates and I just assumed that this KP duty was a part of her assigned tasks. But as we belatedly discovered, Jan was performing these duties not because of any line-item in her job description, but rather out of the kindness of her own heart.

Kindness which, I’m sorry to say, we had worn perilously thin.

Frankly, we’d been spoiled. We never had to worry about putting our own dishes in the dishwasher; She’d do it for us. Spill a little coffee when filling your cup? No problem, Jan would take care of it with a swipe of a cloth. And no need to bother turning off the coffee machine after we’d had our fill. She’d be right there to turn it off and get it all set for morning.

Over time, we had become increasingly reliant on her good will. And basically stopped doing any of the above for ourselves, knowing that she would be there to set things back to rights. Her diligence was beyond compare, after all.

I’m not sure what straw finally broke the camel’s back. One too many dishes in the sink, perhaps. Or having to clean out the microwave yet again after someone’s leftovers rebelled. Heck, maybe she realized how lazy and slovenly we’d become.

Maybe it was all of the above. All I know is that one day Jan drew the line. Via e-mail, she notified us that effective immediately she would no longer take care of the kitchen.

Just like that, we were on our own. And no amount of begging, pleading, weeping, hair pulling or promises to mend our wicked ways would change her mind. (Trust me, I know. I tried them all.)

I had to respect Jan’s decision. After all, no one should have to clean up for us. We are adults, after all. It is not beyond reason to expect that we should be able to put our own coffee mug in the dishwasher at the end of the day.

Or at least, that’s what one would hope.

Unfortunately, it has proven easier in theory than in practice. And given reason for me to revive the whole nature vs. nurture debate.