They Know Who Butters Their Bread

Alexander goes in nearly every morning to get the kids. (I don’t say “get the kids up,” because they are usually awake and calling for us in some manner. He just goes in and rescues them). He usually gets Dylan out of his crib first and most mornings I hear the following exchange (or some variation like unto it):

Alexander: Good Morning, Dylan. Did you have a good sleep?

Dylan: Mama

Alexander: Do you want to go see Mama?

Dylan: Uh-huh.

This warms my heart (and makes me laugh). It also makes Alexander a little irritated, since Dylan has yet to say “daddy.” I say turnabout is fair play. Elijah was approximately a year and a half (maybe two years) before he started saying “mommy” as anything but a curse word. He’s gotten with the program since then though.

Early this week we were having company over for dinner. I decided to make dessert for the dinner the day before so as not to be overwhelmed with preparations the following day.

Incidentally, why do we feel the need to create a false aura of domesticity around the house when people come over? I mean, isn’t it enough that we’re cooking them dinner?! Apparently not. We must also clean every room, scour the floors, bathe our children, and if we’re lucky get in a shower ourselves. So I draw the line at making dessert on the same day. I make it the day before. And inevitably it’s sampled the day before also.

Such was the case a few days ago. Alexander cuts into the dessert, stealing a sample piece for himself and one for Lij (Dylan was asleep at the time and not party to this criminal act). Lij holds out his hand to accept the pilfered pastry and looking up at Alexander, with wide-eyed reverence, says “thank you” (which in Lij-ese sounds very much like “dew jew”). Then, without missing a beat, he adds “Mommy.” I walk into the kitchen to find the two thieves still enjoying their spoils and Lij still singing my praises, with continued and persistent choruses of “Dew jew, Mommy.”

It's nice to know some people around here can tell from whence all good gifts flow.