The excited utterance, “Mommy, I wanna HELP you!” strikes fear into many a woman’s quailing heart.
Waaaait, let’s back up a moment. I was getting lunch together, minding my own business, when in came The Toddler.
“Mommy! I wanna HELP you!”
“Okay, sweetheart. Would you get yourself a bowl please?”
“Put it on the counter, please.”
“NNnnnnnNNNnnnnnnnooooo, I wan’ ho’d it! <SMASH>
“CE, look what you’ve done! You disobeyed me and consequently broke the bowl! Hold still; I have to get the vacuum.” <grumble grumble vacuum vacuum>
“Ok, here’s your food” (in new bowl)
<CE grabs bowl> “I’m goin’ get the salt!” <BOOM boom bump>
“Ugh, now there’s rice all over the floor! What were you thinking?!”
<grumble grumble sweep sweep>
BUT, we finally got through lunch. She only dipped the irises (that she had picked this morning right after they bloomed) from the table vase in her lunch bowl a few times.
And then she sat at the table, contentedly playing a game where all of her matchbox cars were refusing to be friends with the red one, including a fake-out (“Will you be my friend?” “Yes!” “Really?!” “No”…sounds like a subject for another day’s post…).
So, to wind down the afternoon, I decided to make a double batch of chai. That’s a gallon. But I decided to make it a double after I started filling the pot. The, uh, 4 quart pot.
I was in the middle of thinking, “It’s a low simmer; it’ll be okay,” when the leg of a bar stool slammed down a couple of inches from my bare foot, and this tiny voice at my elbow piercingly said, “Mommy, I wanna HELP you!”
After an apparent re-attempt from my middle school high-jump days, all I could think was:
“Duck and cover! DUCK AND COVER!!!