Blessed Chaos: Mr. Helpful

Mr. Helpful

4/02/2008

Throughout the day Timothy brings me things. Sometimes it is from the laundry pile, sometimes it is from the garbage, sometimes it is from the bookshelves or bathroom drawers or under the sofa. Basically whatever he can get into and grab a hold of he carries to me. He always releases it with a grunt, his version of "here you are, and you're welcome." Now, sometimes he is being helpful. Like when I am folding laundry he hands me the next piece of clothing before I can manage to complete and stack the one that is in my hand. Oh how I long for the day when he will do all the folding himself! When it comes to folding clothes I am a-okay with child labor. When I am unloading the dishwasher he hands me a spoon to put away, again very helpful.

Then there are the times when I round the corner to find him digging around under my sink. At which point he stands up and hands me a tube of hair gel as if he were getting it for me all along. Or when I find him digging in the trash can and he looks up to realize I am standing there and hands me a paper towel covered in coffee grounds as if it is just the thing I need. This, I am learning, is how he is defuses the situation to avoid the possibility of getting a stern "hands off, Timothy." Ahhh, they learn to manipulate at such a young age.

Most of the time Timothy hands me the random object and moves on but occasionally he changes his mind and wants it back. Usually I am able to oblige and return his object of desire but occasionally, for his safety (because, you know, one year old kids shouldn't be playing with razors and I answered "yes" to the "Is your house baby proofed?" question at his last well visit so I wouldn't know how to explain the cuts), I do not return the coveted item. That's when I get his angry yell.