The Bitster has reached the wonderful age where she likes to help with everything. And I do mean everything.
Sometimes she is actually helpful. For instance, she makes an excellent tomato washer when I am canning.
Sometimes, she is adorable. Take the night of Jakob’s first soccer game when he didn’t understand that it was his turn to sit out for a minute. Despite the best pleas of the coaches and parents on the sidelines, he wasn’t budging from his assigned position. So Bizzie marched right out there and got him, pushing him all the way off the field with her little hand on his back. Have I mentioned that she is also very assertive?
Sometimes, her help is dangerous. It turns out that it is very difficult to unload a dishwasher when you are confronted by a knife-wielding two-year-old standing on the dishwasher door.
Sometimes her help is humiliating.
Yesterday morning was one of those times. I had just sent Jakob and Joshua off to school when I noticed that Bizzie was nowhere to be seen. This was not good, since she had spent the whole morning underfoot, helping me comb the boys’ hair and repacking their backpacks when I wasn’t looking. The current silence could only mean one thing – Biz was no longer in the house. A quick peek out the window confirmed my suspicions. Bizzie was halfway up the block, walking her brothers to school.
This was bad, BAD I tell you.
“But Jennifer,” you are thinking to yourself, “why is that so bad? Just head up the block and grab her.”
Um, yeah. I could totally do that if I were fully dressed. I was not. I had a hoity-toity lunch meeting in a few hours, and I did not want to be cleaning my kitchen in a pencil skirt. So I was just wearing a slip. A very short slip. (Pencil skirt, slit in back. Short slip was necessary.) Anything resembling real clothing was aallll the way upstairs. In my closet. As far away from the front door as it could possibly be. And Bizzie was rapidly approaching the top of the street.
“But still,” you are thinking, “how many people could possibly be out at that time in the morning?”
Um…remember that nice river trail that runs right by my house? The one that every single person in my whole entire neighborhood uses to walk their children to school each day at exactly the same time that I am sending my own offspring out the door? And the very busy road at the top of my street for those who actually drive their children to school?
Let’s just say that there were a lot of people out at that exact moment. A lot. Mucho. Molte. многие. MANY.
I would like to take this moment to apologise to each and every one of them for what they may or may not have seen yesterday morning. I would also like to apologise to their spouses. And children. And the dogs they were walking. I can’t forget the dogs.
From now on I promise to be fully dressed before ANY of my children are allowed out of the house.