As I hurried to start dinner for weekend guests, I dismissed my (3-year-old) son’s request to assist me with the chopping. Instead I suggested he clean toys up off the living room floor.
But mom, you’re just… my life.
I paused after he said this. His life! Indeed, I am. Many thoughts rushed into my head about how I facilitate all his exploration. It was like he was telling me he couldn’t do any thing without me. He couldn’t chop any vegetables without me.
You’re my life, too, son.
It didn’t take me any longer to get the meal started with him helping.