Manchild has been a champ this past week. Perhaps this is because he’s the only one of us who has been feeling normal. Perhaps this is because he dislikes running errands and we haven’t been getting out much. Perhaps he’s just . . . a champ.
He’s been especially eager to help out lately. He’s always (since age 2) been good about getting the vitamins out for everyone at breakfast time, and he’s also pretty good at setting the plasticware on the table for him and his brother. But this past week he’s been taking it to another level: making beds, putting books away, asking for more and more ways to help. (Most of this has to do with earning minutes on the iPad, but, you see, he’s also learning to keep our house clean for us.)
I can hardly walk into the kitchen without him being right next to me, peeling my garlic cloves and opening my cans. Tonight as his brother was finishing up his dinner, he was so excited for little Squish to earn a dessert that he climbed up on the counter to get it for him out of the cupboard. Unfortunately, it was the wrong cupboard. And in his climb he knocked the pan with the extra sweet potato onto the floor. This was just moments after he had eagerly relieved our neighbor of the chocolate-covered “recovery treats” he brought us – before we were actually offered said recovery treats.
Oh, and did I mention that I didn’t need all the garlic peeled. And it sure was quicker to open the cans on my own. And maybe Little Miss was fine playing with that thing I gave her to play with?