I woke up this morning to the clanking sound of dishes and glassware. I went downstairs to investigate, still so tired that my contacts felt glued to the back of my eyelids, and as I went into the kitchen I saw Jacob standing on the counter.
"What are you doing? Get down from there!"
"Mama I'm getting breakfast ready for the sisters."
I looked around. He had set plates out for everyone, napkins, glasses, and even Jack's plastic monkey plate at his highchair. I looked down at my son, now six years old, his hair sticking up from sleep and just melted.
Sometimes it's really easy to get caught off guard with this parenting gig.