Wednesday, August 17, 2011

My Little Helper. Sorta.

It is supremely wonderful that Monkey has developed a STRONG (nearly-obsessive) drive to "help" us do stuff areound the house. Most of the time she IS even helpful, at least a little bit.

More importantly, she is taking great pride in being able to do something that makes her feel like a big kid. She runs the floor sweeper in the kitchen-- which is only fair, since it usually needs to be swept because she dropped food.

One of her favorite things to help with is unloading the groceries. Daddy and/or Mommy will bring in the bags and set them on the kitchen floor.

(I used to put them on the kitchen table. That proved to be a bad idea, because she would just climb up the chairs and try to show her big toddler muscles by picking up, say, the BIG GLASS jar of pasta sauce...and the sweeper is just not that strong.)

So last night we went grocery shopping. It took twelve years (give or take). We got home, and Daddy was bringing in the bags because I had once again injured myself like the graceless dolt I tend to be.

I was moving my wallet and cell phone from the diaper bag back into my purse, so I would remember them for work in the morning. So, I was in the front room which is adjacent to the kitchen.

Monkey comes skipping into the kitchen, sees the bags on the floor and just gets downright GIDDY.

I hear her say to herself:
 "Ok... O.Kayyyy... I can do this!!"

She then bent over to get something out of one of the bags... and bonked her head on the kitchen table so hard the floor shook.

There was the briefest of pauses... and then I heard:

"Apparently... I  can NOT."

I made it back into the kitchen, laughing so hard it looked like I was having some kind of seizure.

Daddy came in with more bags, saw me hunched over the table and had this look of sheer panic-- I had, after all, just had a fairly bad back injury and WTH is wrong now??

I was trying to explain... I tried... with the wheezing and the pointing, and OMG did I have to pee.

Nothing would come out, because Monkey is just standing there in the kitchen, gently rubbing her forehead and, ever-so-quietly, saying "Ow."

Laughing that hard actually hurt my back more, and I barely made it upstairs to pee.



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