My Little Helper


You wouldn’t have known Robbie was the same kid today. Well, this morning you would have. He started the fussing and throwing of things as soon as he was half-dressed this morning. Seriously half-dressed. I didn’t even get the onesie buttoned… But, that’s not what this is about.

I still had some major cleaning up to do when Robbie and I got home. I fully expected some sort of meltdown from the little one (he’s nineteen months today, by the way!). Followed by food and/or beverage throwing. Accompanied with destruction of drawers. But none of it happened. Well, a little of it happened.

When I came back inside from letting Barkley out, I found Robbie in the kitchen and the roll of plastic wrap unrolled in the kitchen. There wasn’t much left, and it was interesting to watch Roberto figure out that the cardboard roll made a great horn. He eventually started running around repeating words into it. Amazing how funny “Mama”, “kitty”, and “bath” sound through a cardboard tube.

He didn’t just run around playing games. Oh, no. Robbie had his little helper hat on tonight. He fed the dog, carefully delivering the food bowl from the kitchen to the dining room where Barkley was napping. He found the canister of Clorox wipes, pulled out a half dozen, and began cleaning my kitchen floor. He threw away trash from the linen closet as I handed it to him. And when he felt like he’d worked hard enough? Robbie grabbed a bottle of seltzer, took himself into the living room, hoisted himself up on his little red recliner, and hung out for a while.

He laughed hysterically through bath time. He blew bubbles and threw water on his head. He let me wash his hair AND his face. He brushed his teeth. He even sat through fingernail AND toenail clipping. Something he hates.

God, it feels good to have my little boy back. Even if he wakes up a terror tomorrow morning.


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