When I was in Philadelphia this weekend visiting Patrick, Kirstin and sweet baby Eavan, I recounted the following story, and they promptly chastised me for not having blogged it. So, without further ado:
One morning several weeks ago, I woke to the sounds of Carter moving around in the kitchen. I went downstairs to discover him sitting on the counter, wearing an oven mitt and preparing to remove three waffles from the toaster oven. Three waffles that he had taken from the freezer, climbed on the counter and cooked.
When I came in (and just before I gave him the speech about how wonderful and smart he is, but that he still isn't allowed to use the toaster oven alone), he told me that he was making breakfast for the three of us. He then showed me the three plates he had pulled from the cabinet and lined up on the counter, ready for plating up the waffles. The counter also held a (pretty heavy) carton of milk that he had pulled from the fridge.
But here's the best part. I went to make coffee, and as I started to pour water in the coffee maker, it overflowed -- because it had already been filled with water. Carter said, "I tried to make coffee, but I couldn't get the top off [the part that holds the grounds]." I finished up the coffee, and we sat down to eat our waffles.
The following weekend, he filled the coffee maker again (this time I checked before adding water). Again, I ground the beans and finished up the coffee. As I was sipping the coffee, I looked over at the coffee maker and wondered how he filled the it with water. Both times he had completely filled it with water. The pot itself would be too heavy if it were full, so he was probably filling it in several steps, but it might be a bit unwieldy for him, with the lid and all. I asked Carter how he filled up the coffee maker. "Do you use the coffee pot?" "No." He points to a dirty glass sitting next to the sink. "I filled it up and poured it in until it was full."
I remember that glass from last night. I remember how, when we went to bed, it was sitting next to the sink, containing melting ice and the remnants of a bourbon and coke.
Coffee prepared by my precocious and very thoughtful three-year-old... even when it's made with pretty gross water, it tastes great.
8 comments:
Color me not even slightly surprised that your child is freaky smart. He gets that from both sides. :)
I kind of love that, quite accidentally, he made you guys coffee with a touch of bourbon in it. Good boy! ;)
You guys are either very, very lucky or in for a HEAP of trouble. I suspect a mixture of the two. :)
So glad you published this story. Yes, thoughtful, smart, and capable. He is showing you every day who he is becoming. What a lovely boy!
Isn't it amazing what they absorb when you are not even thinking about it? Next he'll be trying to back the car out of the driveway...
Thank goodness Thomas told me about this. I visited last week and on Friday, instead of coming and getting in bed with me as he had the two mornings before, I woke up to banging in the kitchen. I went in and was told that my waffle was on my plate at the table! And that the water was in the coffee pot. He is really a cool kid. And even when I chaged cars and car seats several times, he always knew which one had his seat!. Loved the visit!! GrannyB
AMAZING! i'll take a waffle and a bourbon-coke'd coffee any day especially if he makes it! wow carter!
I love this story. Thanks for sharing it.
I'm late to this party, but oh my gosh, I love this story. Capable indeed! Amazing.
The quality of thought involved in figuring out how to achieve filling the coffee maker -- not the way he sees you do it -- but a way he can manage, is just awesome. Clever kid! Bob :-)
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