Special Helper

Addi and I have developed something of a routine, every evening when she hears the tell tale signs of me starting to cook dinner (pans clanging, water running, fridge opening) she'll jump up from wherever she is in the apartment and call: "MOM! I'll be your special helper!" then she'll grab one of her little chairs and drag it (at quite a speed I must say) to "her spot" in the kitchen (to my right at the cutting board) and jump up ready to help in any way I'll let her. She is usually the dumper and stirrer but this day she was DYING to cut some tomatoes. I told her she couldn't use a knife because they were sharp, she looked sad for probably a micro-second before she cheerfully said, "I get butter knife...I just get a butter knife" and before I could do anything, she had a relatively safe butter knife and was busily cutting away. She was so proud of helping in such an important way.

She did a good job I think.