clean up clean up everybody everywhere

We've reached another level of awesome something. Yesterday Elphine got a bee in her bonnet to load the dishwasher and did a Remarkably good job, and then she wanted to feed the baby a massive bowl of banana which went all the way down the baby and not anywhere else (AMAZING), and then she ran the dishwasher and unloaded it. She was thrilled with herself. "This is so fun," she said.

"I'm glad you feel that way," said I, "would that you always love to clean the kitchen."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because," I said, "someday you'll wake up and you'll have to do it and you'll start whining, just like you do when you have to clean your room."

"Na-huh" she said, "I'm always going to like it."

"Ok, I'll remind you in a few weeks that you said that."

Meanwhile, her brothers were lying on the floor picking up one tiny cheerio at a time moaning and moaning, "I'm so tired! Picking up cheerios is so hard. I need to eat a lot of food. Can I have a Popsicle?"

At the same time Gladys was raging around telling everybody what to do, "Clean up!" she shouted, "Mooooooooommy, Womulus isn't cweaning up!"

She anticipated the baby needing a change and brought me a diaper, wipes and a plastic bag. "I'll change her," she bellowed condescendingly.

"No you won't," I said, "but thank you for the diaper." She took the wipes out and handed them to me one by one. I felt vaguely managed and therefore rebellious.

"I can get wipes out myself."

"No," she said, "I'll do it." She's like a tiny Attila the Hun, ready to conquer the household if we don't beat her off. Later she came in with a page full of addition sums and a pen. "Now I will do my maffff, "she shouted.

"Whatever," I said.