The other day, Ian came home from school in a wonderful mood. He read a book for a while, played with some toys, got rowdy with his sister, then decided to hide from me in the pantry. While he was in there, he must have decided he was hungry. He emerged with a loaf of bread and peanut butter. After setting these on the bar, he retrieved a butter knife from the silverware drawer and a large plate from the dishwasher (which held the dirty dishes from the day before).
He then proceeded to make himself a HUGE peanut butter sandwich, sans jelly or marshmallow fluff. And then he ate the entire thing. It was an amazing thing to behold. He was proud of himself for deciding what he wanted and being capable of making it. I was thrilled to know that I can now say, "Get it yourself, dear" the next time he asks for a snack.
A dear friend of mine once told me that her mother's philosphy about raising children was this: If she did her job right, they would one day leave her.
Ian has taken his first step in that direction. YEEEEEEEEE-HAW!
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