This morning as I heard dishes clanking in the kitchen I called out to inquire which daughter was my favorite? Because whichever child is most helpful is my favorite -- a designation I cheerfully and shamelessly encourage. This morning it was Anna loading the dishwasher. I love Anna. She's my favorite.
After the dish loading, which lasted all of 30 seconds and did not include the sound of pot washing, Anna came in to snuggle on my lap and ask when we were going to see Avatar. It took a bit of the bloom off the kitchen help.
She's been campaigning for days. Although she's rather artless, the dishes first thing in the morning caught me off guard. I told her one of my friends said it might be inappropriate for younger kids and she protested, "It's only her opinion" and slumped off upstairs.
Kate is reading in the family room. She is approaching her twelfth birthday and can sometimes be relied on to wash pots and pans. How does she feel about doing the dishes? An encouraging clank, then silence. Curses! Should never have bought that book at Target yesterday...
Anna's back. "Maybe on Saturday I can see it with Daddy?"
Sigh.
Can hardly believe no one wants to clean pots and pans this morning. Yes, they are from last night. And no, they are not science experiments because I did rinse them.
"Kate! Don't you want to do the dishes so I can blog about what a good helper you are?"
Prolonged moan. Encouraging getting-up-from-the-book sounds. Then nothing. No one is my favorite!!!
Excuse me while I go do dishes.
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