It’s the classic! The Christmas crunch is on and all I can think of are the items on my immediate, perpetual list. My son mentions in passing that he has to bring pancakes to school in two mornings. I barely hear him, I immediately acknowledge him and then quickly forget.
The next night he makes the announcement it’s time to cook. I look at him from under the rubble of wrapping paper not sure who I’m wrapping for at the moment and motion to the pantry “everything you need is in there”. I refuse to assist, fighting my natural instinct, I can’t, I’m spent. He can do it, I know he can if only I can let go of the urge to bust in and take over. I leave him alone, the kitchen is silent except for a little of his music and then I hear the occassional “oooohhh this one is perfect”! Perfection is right.