Oh, The Ever-Loving Joy

I get it. One of the best parts about motherhood is to see your children voluntarily serve. And it's just a perk when they happen to be serving you. At 8:06 Saturday morning, my six year old came into my room with breakfast on a tray . . . for moi . . . just because he thought it would be a nice thing to do. Zach helped him just a teeny, tiny bit by getting down the tray and pouring the milk. All Kye's idea though. (Perhaps the survival instinct kicking in?) Ehhh, well, whatever it was, it made my day. And you could tell Kye felt all fuzzy and warm inside by doing it. And the fuzzies lasted for at least 15 minutes. Niiiiiiiice.

And on a completely different note, I was thinking today how much I enjoyed it when my niece Hannah was a Dora-watching youngun and she prounounced delicioso "witchy-witchy-witchy-ho." Still makes me laugh. The guffawing, tear-streaming type of laugh. Good stuff.