My parents raised 5 kids without losing their minds. They had a system for everything, from dinner to Christmas presents.

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I grew up as one of five kids in a highly organized household. My parents used schedules and routines to keep everything running smoothly.

The ringing bell had the same effect as a break horn blowing in an industrial factory. Doors would slowly open along the corridor, and disheveled bodies stumbled out. At our house, 6:30 p.m. was dinner time. I can't remember when the bell was introduced, but it proved the most effective way to call five young teenagers down to the kitchen to eat. Despite regularly being called the Brady Bunch when out in public (particularly when in a line on moving escalators), five kids is actually quite a convenient number.

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