“Look, mom,” Tommy says. I turn from preparing his dad’s oatmeal to see him with his spoon in one hand and his dripping breakfast bowl held vertically so I can see the picture at the bottom of the bowl. I open my mouth to order him to upend it and put everything in the sink like he’s supposed to do after each meal, but before I can even draw a full breath, he begins to recite.
“Hey, diddle diddle. The cat and the fiddle. The cow jumped over the moon…”
He is smiling proudly, only halfway through but certain he can make it to the end perfectly. I can see it in his eyes. As the little dog laughs, I watch the dregs of his cottage cheese and fruit plop lazily on my freshly mopped floor. I force myself to nod and smile encouragingly when he wiggles one and then the other as the dish runs away with the spoon, all the while cataloging where each bit of flotsam lands so I can find it later.
I clap and cheer when he finishes. The dish and spoon wind up in the sink eventually. And the floor wipes clean again. Mommy chores are endless. But the rewards are worth every second.
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