This morning J snuck into the kitchen while I was changing T, took two bowls out of the cupboard and put two weetbix in each. When I arrived, nervously, to check out the clatter, he said "Put the milk on please, Mummy" (I'm glad I got there before he decided to do that himself, as although I want to foster his independence, I find it impossible to be positive about the mess). Then "Do you want brown sugar on yours?", as he spooned a surprisingly restrained amount into his own bowl.
At morning tea, two of my workmates were complaining about how their teenagers did nothing to help around the house. I felt smug!
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