I've been a mom long enough to sigh inwardly (and often not-so-inwardly) when my littlest person asks to "help" me make a meal. This morning, it's french toast.
I didn't really want her to help. Makes it take longer. It's messier. Not efficient. Etc.
But because good moms let their children do messy, inefficient things, I said yes. This time, the sighing stayed inward, and I managed to make annoyance look like enthusiasm.
Which is good, because looking enthusiastic for a mere two minutes made it possible for me to remember that her version of "helping" means taking the eggs out of the fridge. That's it. Because after that complicated task, she was completely wiped out and all done helping.
Win-Win! She got to "help," and I got to do 99.9% of the process by myself! As a bonus, I am reminded just how much of mothering is about delivering academy award-worthy performances.
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