Cute is His Middle Name

It began Sunday morning, when Caleb wanted to help do the dishes. Caleb loves doing dishes. Mostly because it gives him an excuse to get sopping wet and spray water everywhere.

Problem is, I was busy baking Amish Bread that morning. I couldn't oversee Tropical Storm Caleb. Plus Jason had just asked me (with that hopeful impish grin I can't refuse) if I would please make pancakes for breakfast.

"Pan-ceck? Pan-ceck?? Eat! Eat!"

The dishes were momentarily forgotten. Caleb scampered into the dining room and before I could pull out my bisquick and eggs, he'd pushed a chair around the island and up to the counter.

Jason laughed. "He wants to help."

I gave my husband a raised-eyebrow-look. A look that said, "Ha. You've never seen Caleb 'helping' in the kitchen before." But Jason agreed to help clean any mess that ensued, so up at the counter Caleb stayed.

Below are some candid shots of what followed:
(and by candid I mean really really bad photography)


We had to rescue the sugar once or twice; Caleb's discovered sugar, what it looks like, and more importantly, how it tastes. He'll shovel handfuls into his mouth if you let him.

But he also discovered baking powder that morning, which apparently doesn't taste so pleasant. His response? Pffpht, pffght, "Nasty!"

No egg shells in the batter, although one egg missed the bowl entirely when it was cracked.

You can see Jason laughing in this one. Mommy wasn't quite so happy, but I'll admit, Caleb was darn cute.

Going in for a "you are the cutest boy in whole wide world and I love you" Daddy kiss.

Yeah, that shirt didn't make it past breakfast. But true to his word, Jay did help with the cleaning and Caleb was happy, so who am I to complain?

I tend to shy away from letting Caleb "help" in the kitchen; I worry about the mess we'll make (and then have to clean). But I think I miss out on memories like last Sunday when I worry about the messes too much. My kitchen is none the worse for wear and the pancakes were edible, so no harm done. Right?

I think the pictures and memories were worth the mess. :) Guess I need to adjust my thinking a bit . . .

What do y'all think about toddlers in the kitchen? Have any stories to share?