A beautifully peaceful morning. All children in school, albeit only for a couple of hours, all kinds of things which ought to have been done, but horizontal on the settee won. Very nice.
And then Little Fish came back from school, and pottered around for a few minutes before coming back to look at me very seriously. "Mummy, maybe you and me tidy the kitchen together. It is messy. You an me clean it together." My three year old child thinks that I need help in the cleaning department, and not only that, thinks things are bad enough that sorting them out should take priority over eating cheese or watching the Teletubbies.
I suppose it is just possible that she may have had a point...
So, we tidied. Well, I tidied, and washed up, and dried up, and put things away. Little Fish sat sipping tiny sips of juice from one of her doll's cups and passing comment "You hands dirty Mummy" "Those bubbles hot Mummy" "This one broken Mummy", and then started passing me items from various cupboards to wash, clearly thinking that the general washing up was not sufficient. And then she got cross that I refused to wash the trays up, and went off to sort things out in her own play kitchen.
I finished the washing up, abandoned the rest of the kitchen, made lunch for us both and came back to the sitting room. Now we had visitors last night, planned visitors, so the sitting room had been tidy. Apparently it's only mess in the kitchen Little Fish worries about though, as she was kind enough to pass this on to me to deal with.
I do wonder why I bother.
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