When my kids were little, they were given a small allowance for folding the clean towels and pillowcases.

I sweetened the deal by offering to double their allowance if they noticed the laundry needed to be folded, and did it without being told.

I even dumped the linens in front of the door to their room, so they couldn’t help but trip over it.

But most times, they stepped right over the pile, and I had to remind them.

On the rare occasions they did notice, it was because their bank accounts were sparse, and they were eyeing new Pokémon cards.

All to say, it’s hard to teach people to notice.

In Amy Wilson’s new book Happy to Help, she lists the four steps in doing any task:

1. Noticing what needs to be done (she calls it “anticipating the need”)
2. Identifying how the need will get met
3. Making the decision
4. Monitoring the progress

The first step, noticing, is the one that trips people up the most.

I have a hard time understanding how someone doesn’t notice that the milk is low, the floor needs sweeping, or the trash is overflowing.

This gets me into trouble because I often assume my priorities are universal. If I see something that needs doing, I expect others to notice it and take care of it too.

But that’s not how it works. Not everyone is wired to notice, or prioritize the same things.

And so, I have to assign tasks, cajole behavior, and yes, follow up to ensure everything gets done.

It’s a lesson in managing my own expectations.

Because as much as I want to cultivate a culture of proactive noticers, the reality is that noticing takes practice. It’s a skill, not an instinct.

So, I remind myself: noticing starts with modeling.

For example, when someone asks me a question about how to use software, I often create a Loom video demonstrating exactly what they need to know.

But sometimes, I don’t know how to do the thing myself. In those cases, I turn on my screen recorder and let them watch me figure it out in real time:

“Hmmm. I have no idea how to do this, so let’s Google it,” I’ll narrate as I follow Google’s instructions step-by-step on camera.

My screen recordings are certainly not Emmy-award winning performances, but the hope is that next time, they’ll notice and take the same approach.

So even if the towels don’t get folded without a nudge, maybe, just maybe, one day, someone will trip over a pile of laundry and think, “I should take care of that.“

Progress, not perfection.