We’re having friends and family over to kick-off the New Year tonight. Typically, I was getting myself twisted into a knot about having the house all cleaned up and ready to go.
Consequently, last night I issued a few edicts to the other members of my family about doing their part, cleaning up after themselves, etc. Not my finest moment, even though I tried to be loving and respectful, while sharing my frustration. (Justify, justify, justify.)
The children scurried off to clean up their dinner dishes, and when I walked through the hearth room later, I saw that the markers and drawing paper that had been scattered on the floor had also been cleaned up. I knew that the youngest one was most likely the house elf that took that task upon herself, so at bedtime I told Yessa, “Thank you for cleaning up the markers in the hearth room.”
Without rancor or sarcasm, and with complete honesty and openness she looked at me and said, “You’re welcome. After your little speech, I looked at them and thought, ‘I better clean those up.'”
This child is both angel and devil so perfectly rolled into one package.