Last night, Robbie found Barkley’s food container and informed me that he would feed Barkley. He opened the lid, found the cup, filled it with food, and dumped it into Barkley’s dish. Robbie then patted Barkley’s head, gave him a kiss, and said, “Food, Barkley. Eat.” And, Barkley did.
You see the opportunity that has presented itself here, don’t you? My child is begging for a chore. He wants to be involved. He wants to be a part of the family. Right? Not one to throw away an opportunity to pawn responsibility off onto one of the boys in the house, I told Robbie that feeding Barkley could be his job. And, I’m not lying here, Robbie’s smile lit up his whole face. He said, “Job. QiQi feed Barkley. ‘Kay, Mama!” And we shook on it, making it an official deal.
Official deal, yes. But not one I expected Robbie to remember. He didn’t mention it at all when we came downstairs in the morning, although that may be because I was yelling at him to “Hurry! Hurry!” We got home late tonight, and I left Robbie inside while I let Barkley out and took out the trash. I brought Barkley back in, hoping to find my house still in one piece.
What I found was Robbie, with the dog food pulled off the shelf, pouring a final cup of dog food into Barkley’s dish. He looked up, so proud of himself, and said, “Barkley, eat! Eat food, Barkley.” He then placed the cup back in the container, closed it up, and put the container back on the shelf. Robbie gave me a big hug and said, “Job, Mama!” and ran into the living room to watch Fireman Sam. I’ve never been more proud. Or more eager to pawn more jobs off on my two-year-old. I wonder how long it will be until I can get him to clean the litter boxes…