The Potato

My daughter suddenly came downstairs today while I was working in the print room with a plate.   She said, "I made this for you, Mom."   I took the plate and asked her what she'd made. 

My son still uses the microwave with a level of uncertainty, mostly because he doesn't want to use it.  He will gladly eat pretzels when we aren't looking—for more than one meal in a day—instead of making even some soup for himself.  He's getting better because we've been encouraging him to use the microwave more to make his lunches, but other than that, he has very little interest in learning to cook. 

My daughter, on the other hand, wants to be independent.  I didn't know she knew how to do this, but she'd gotten a potato, put holes in the skin with a fork, microwaved it for the appropriate amount of time, cut it in half, even though it was steaming hot.  

Then she put butter, salt, and pepper on it, carried the wobbly thing on a plate down the stairs with a fork, and had brought it to me, all without running into anything, even though she can't see what's around her.  

I was very impressed.   I ate the entire potato and told her thank you an hour later when I saw her. 

My son, upon hearing about the potato, wanted to know if she would make him one.  Then, he wanted to know what other food she could cook.   They spent some time in the kitchen making food and talking about cooking.

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Laundry Cooperation:  It was laundry day and the children were tasked with folding their laundry after washing it yesterday.   Both of them wanted to go somewhere else and were in a hurry, so when I came up to tell my daughter something, I was surprised to find my son in her room.   He and she had made an arrangement: she was hanging his shirts, which he hated to do, and he was sorting her pajamas and other things out that she can't do because there is no tactile difference in the materials.   They were happily helping each other.   It's not a first, but it was definitely unexpected.