Whose Kids Are These Anyway?
The other night Dotter, who is 10, announced that she was going to make cookies. And she was going to take those cookies and deliver them to the people on her list. And all I had to do was drive her to deliver the cookies that she made to the people on that list.
And I immediately thought are you serious? I just spent the entire day working my tail off and I'm tired and I'm hungry and there's forty-seven loads of laundry to do and what the heck is in the toddler's hair?
And then I thought huh. This must be what nice people do. Just decide to do things for others for no other reason than to make people happy.
So, even though I was exhausted and facing an endless mound of dirty clothing, I decided to support Dotter. Because I like nice people. Especially nice people that deliver cookies for no other reason than to make my day a little brighter. And I figured if I supported her now, maybe she'd remember it when she was older and would bring me cookies when I was in the old folks' home.
Dotter made Pink Lemonade Cookies with pink frosting. Then she left the mess for me to clean up and the dirty mixing bowls for me to wash because she was tired. But I didn't even mind because my heart was experiencing this thing called pride. And it felt good. Really good.
We took her list and the total number of cookies she made and figured out how many cookies went into each ziplock bag. *bonus: she was doing math!
And then I told Big V that he was in charge of putting the toddler to bed because we had deliveries to make! With the exception of two stops, Dotter did all the hopping out, doorbell ringing and explaining. It made my heart swell. We went to a neighbor's house, a cousin's house, an Uncle she barely ever sees, a piano teacher, a friend from school.... eight stops in all.
"I think they were all really happy, Mom," she beamed as we drove home.
Oh, you do my heart good! "So, what do those cookies taste like anyway? I couldn't taste them because they have gluten in them. What were they like?"
"They're really hard. I thought they'd be soft but they're not. We should do this again!"
Right after I get done apologizing for everyone's chipped teeth....
And I immediately thought are you serious? I just spent the entire day working my tail off and I'm tired and I'm hungry and there's forty-seven loads of laundry to do and what the heck is in the toddler's hair?
And then I thought huh. This must be what nice people do. Just decide to do things for others for no other reason than to make people happy.
So, even though I was exhausted and facing an endless mound of dirty clothing, I decided to support Dotter. Because I like nice people. Especially nice people that deliver cookies for no other reason than to make my day a little brighter. And I figured if I supported her now, maybe she'd remember it when she was older and would bring me cookies when I was in the old folks' home.
Dotter made Pink Lemonade Cookies with pink frosting. Then she left the mess for me to clean up and the dirty mixing bowls for me to wash because she was tired. But I didn't even mind because my heart was experiencing this thing called pride. And it felt good. Really good.
We took her list and the total number of cookies she made and figured out how many cookies went into each ziplock bag. *bonus: she was doing math!
And then I told Big V that he was in charge of putting the toddler to bed because we had deliveries to make! With the exception of two stops, Dotter did all the hopping out, doorbell ringing and explaining. It made my heart swell. We went to a neighbor's house, a cousin's house, an Uncle she barely ever sees, a piano teacher, a friend from school.... eight stops in all.
"I think they were all really happy, Mom," she beamed as we drove home.
Oh, you do my heart good! "So, what do those cookies taste like anyway? I couldn't taste them because they have gluten in them. What were they like?"
"They're really hard. I thought they'd be soft but they're not. We should do this again!"
Right after I get done apologizing for everyone's chipped teeth....
Comments
Yeah, and why is it when the kids get a brilliant idea of something they want to do, it seems WE always get to do all the work? Something does not add up right in this equation.