I ask him to come in the kitchen and help me with dinner. Because the next time we make this dish--I want him to do it on his own. He peels the potatoes and we talk about the chemistry of onions. I show him how to cut the potatoes and then I tell him to put some black pepper on it. And he opens the wrong side of the pepper--and a WHOLE bunch of pepper spills out on a portion of the casserole. I am not upset, in fact, I stifle a laugh. I clean it up best I can. He covers it and puts it into the oven. The satisfied grin on his face is the only indication I receive, but it is enough. I cannot wait to have him make this meal on his own.
(Dad takes the slightly over peppered chicken breast.)
She likes to help too. Today I am putting the dishes into the dishwasher. She comes up to me and asks to help. Gently, I show her how to put the dishes into the machine. She helps with the utensils and puts the
liquid in, shuts the dishwasher. Pushes the buttons.
Both these chores are things that I could do easier without them. But it is great to share with them these activities. Yes, they are taught these chores...but I am also taught patience and care.
Sometimes it is good that I remember that, as there are too many times I think that I am in such a rush to get these things done...that I forget these lessons.