Picture this: it's 9am. Molly's dressed, but just barely. I'm upstairs
doing my make-up and I hear Molly walking downstairs. A little bit
unusual, since she usually hangs out with me while I get ready, but I
don't really think anything of it. 10 minutes pass and I head
downstairs ready for the day. I hear noises coming from the kitchen so I
peek around the corner and find Molly, knife in hand, trying to cut the
butter that she's retrieved from the refrigerator that she just learned how
to open. She looks over and smiles. Mac-and-Cheese!
Fast forward 2 days. Picture us eating cereal as a family around the kitchen table. Molly's finishing while I put my bowl in the dishwasher and the milk in the fridge. The dryer buzzes and I go into the laundry room to switch out the laundry. Not gone for more than a few minutes this is the scene upon my return:
"Mommy, I spill"
Notice the milk on the table? Yep, that's the one I just put away. Molly looked so sad and worried about the spilled milk it was all I could do to not burst out laughing. She got a little embarrassed when I called Shane to come see what she'd been up to. We moved her to a different chair so she could eat the bowl of cereal and milk that she'd poured, all by herself. (A first with the milk.) After much reassurance from us telling her that it was okay and that it was only an accident we asked that next time please ask for help. When she finished eating she helped me clean up the milk.
Fast forward to today. Molly's eating cereal. I've put away the milk and am checking my email in the next room. "Mama" Molly calls. I go into the kitchen and find the milk back on the table and ready to be poured. She looks up at me, "More, please."
My heart swells with pride, music fills the room and a small tear forms in the corner of my eye. I love my little girl!
