Sometimes I get hustled by my kids.
Today M made a sandwich for the first time. I read something somewhere, on some blog probably, about how a three-year-old should be able to follow a basic recipe.
Thankfully I have grown as mother since the time I freaked out when I realized one of his friends could write her name and I had basically never even put a pencil in his hand. (He learned that weekend. What? He's smart.) But it did make me think.
He does other age appropriate things like dress himself and bathe himself. He knows keyboard shortcuts on the computer that I don't even know. He even pours his own milk (unless the gallon is full. I'm not that into supervising the wiping-up process for entire spilled jugs of milk.) The only reason he doesn't do things like make sandwiches is because I haven't ever made (or let?) him try. So when he asked for a sandwich for breakfast this morning I told him he could make it himself.
It wasn't even a momentous occasion. He just made it, and cut it in half, and ate it. That's it. He even opened the jam jar and bread bag. It's like when he was younger and refused to acknowledge any color except blue despite months of clever attempts on my part to sneak the words into our playtime and drop them casually into our conversations, to the point that I eventually tried bribing him with M&Ms and it turned out he knew them all except brown. What other hidden talents does he possess?