Well. I hope you all had delightful Cinco de Mayo celebrations. DH is working tonight, so I had planned to do something really simple, cheese quesadillas with sliced tomatoes. We got home later than usual tonight due to errand running, and for some insane reason I went on one of my you-boys-will-help-your-mother-and-be-cheerful-about-it kicks, so I made the kids bring in all the groceries while I took out the trash and recycling, checked the mail, dealt with the dog, and switched out the laundry.
I returned to the kitchen not more than 7 minutes later to find the groceries strewn all over the kitchen floor, and the boys in the midst of it all, having ripped open a new bag of raisin bread and a container of cream cheese. The oldest had apparently just finished making his little brother a sandwich, because I walked in as he was licking the knife and plunging it back into the cream cheese to make his own.
You know, all those stupid parenting books that talk about the importance of children helping never really seem to address the actual effect of children helping.
So, in the end, the boys ate cream cheese sandwiches for dinner while pretending the knife was a sword, I ate a fried egg sandwich while pretending my decaf ice tea was a margarita, and everyone was happy. DH is going to be so jealous over missing all the fun.
