Fetch

Muffin already loves to be helpful (she also loves to be unhelpful, but that’s another story). Last weekend, I told her we were going to do laundry, and she became so vocal in her enthusiasm about this idea that I wondered if she’d misheard me. Could “laundry” be mistaken for “bubble-blowing Elmo cookies?” But no, it was the prospect of clean clothes that sent shivers of joy throughout her little body, as she helped me sort (I use the term loosely) darks and lights, carried each piece over to the washing machine, shut the door, and pointed to the detergent. Then she settled on the floor in front of the washer, and tuned in to The Laundry Show.

I can also tell her to go get her shoes and she’ll bring me a matching pair. Sometimes she even brings several footwear options to choose from. She’ll grab her towel when I tell her it’s time for her baf, as she puts it. Last week the Canuck had a hard day, and I told her that daddy needed a kiss. I had to ask her several times before it clicked, but eventually she toddled over to lean in so he could give her a kiss, which is pretty much as cuddly as she gets.

Now that she’s starting to understand commands and seems so eager to please, my head is swimming with possibilities. Muffin, could you run downstairs and get the paper so I don’t have to get dressed just yet? Sweetie, can you pick up daddy’s dry cleaning on the way home from the playground? Honey, could you get Mommy a margarita, frozen, no salt?