Blogworthy

My husband called this morning and kindly requested that I run just one load of dishes and wash/dry just one load of laundry. I groaned and whined, "Okaaay, I'll tryyy."

'The dishes haven't formed a good tower, yet. They're not even leaning!' I said to myself.

I sat still for a minute and finally decided it was best to get it out of the way.

As I unloaded the dishwasher, I handed my son a toy to play with and let him pull up and stand on the side of the dishwasher. I probably shouldn't have done that.

Once I started loading the dishwasher, I decided that he was in a bad spot--not to mention that he kept grabbing dishes. So, I spent the next 15 minutes scrubbing dishes and stopping every few seconds to tell my son to "get down" and "sit down" and then physically removing his hands from the dishwasher.

I grumbled silently at my husband, 'You have no idea what it's like to wash dishes with a mobile little one in the room.' And to myself, 'No wonder I only do this on special occasions.'

Finally, my son started to realize that I wasn't going to give up. He tried it twice more, then he gave in. I breathed a sigh of relief (I was getting exhausted!) and went on loading the dishwasher.

A few minutes passed and I realized he wasn't in the kitchen anymore. I could hear his voice coming from the living room/dining room area. I also heard a light *thump*.

'I should probably go see if he's into something,' I thought. 'The peace and quiet sure is nice, though. I really need to get these dishes done. Heh, maybe he'll do something blogworthy,' I laughed to myself.

Several more minutes went by then my son came crawling back into the kitchen. He smiled up at me like he had missed me during his little expedition.

He didn't seem to be a mess or anything, so I thought maybe we were in the clear.

At long last, the dishwasher was full. I poured in some soap and turned the dishwasher on.

As we headed back to the bedroom, I took a good look at the living room. Nothing seemed out of place whatsoever!

'Hmm,' I mused to myself. 'I wonder what he was doing...maybe he wasn't doing anything bad or blogworthy after all. '

O ye of little faith. When does a day, even an hour go by that my child does not do something blogworthy? I simply have not the time to chronicle all his doings (and undoings...).

Suddenly, I saw it. The dining room. Napkins strewn about. Paper plates scattered on the floor. Cups knocked over. The lamp on its side (that explains the thump I heard).

I smiled. That's my boy. Never a dull moment.