Ruby had a startling observance yesterday. I was hanging up wet laundry to dry and she was ‘helping’.
“You’re lucky, Momma.”
Lucky is her new word. Everyone is far more lucky than she in her pessimistic worldview.
“You get to sit at the computer and click, click, click while all of us have to do chores and clean and…”
“I don’t do anything around here?”
“Not really. We have to do it all.”
Having just cooked a roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, cauliflower, and broccoli for supper, followed by rhubarb cheesecake for dessert – all from scratch – and now I was doing a load made up of all children’s laundry, I took slight offense at this view of hers.
“Who feeds you?”
“You. But that’s not really work. I like to cook.”
“Who does your laundry?”
“Well… you do. But mostly we have to do all the work.”
“I’ll remind you of that in about 20 years when you’re sitting on your backside all day while your small children bring you bon-bons and truffles.”