I’m not a baby

I am not 100% certain how the “I’m not a baby” I am hearing from the youngest child is relevant to the situation at hand, but I’m going with the flow here.

Lance has been a wonderful help this morning. When I was loading the dishwasher earlier I told him to clean off the table. He said, “OK” and then grumbled that he didn’t leave the entire mess when he saw the table. I didn’t care, they were his plate from dinner and his cups from the day. He was very dutiful. He cleared everything off the table, all the toys, the books and magazines, and everything else. He then looked at me and said “I am going to make the table all shiny.” Knock yourself out kid! He has been doing this for a couple of weeks now. Not every day mind you, but when he wants to clean the table and make it shiny he will put forth the extra effort required to make that table shine. I am so proud of him.

Of course I am trying to clean off the groceries from the kitchen counter so that I can get to my mixer to whip together the batter for my sister’s birthday cake and I am stepping over toys. Evidently cleaning off the table does not mean that he’ll put the stuff away. I told him to come get the toys out of the kitchen. I hear in response, “I am not a baby please stop telling me to do things.” *raised eye brow* I know you’re not a baby, but I still told you to come get YOUR toys out of MY kitchen. He grumbled some more and picked up a few toys. “Come get the rest of the toys out of the kitchen” was my response. To which I hear a loud and continuous and rather repetitive “I am not a baby. I told you I am not a baby.” There are tears rolling down his cheeks at this point.

I am not sure how it is relevant, but OK if you’re not a baby don’t leave a mess.

I’ve got those white towels in the wash. Ugh.

The bathroom is clean enough.

The kitchen table is shiny.

There are no toys on the kitchen floor.

The butter is softening in the mixer bowl.

My head is full of water.