At the Fourth of July get-together at a nearby park Tim was complaining about us to a friend of ours. I know because when I approached them they both looked at me guiltily and our friend blurted out, “Tim says you won’t let him help around the house!”
“I’d love to have him help,” I said.
So the next day when he was sitting at the table after breakfast and I was doing dishes and he said something about doing his own, I said cheerfully, “You can do all of them, if you want!”
The dishes were still sitting on the counter after dinner (and you will recall that we have ants). I set in to wash them myself. Tim came over and said, “When I do dishes, I do them all at once, at the end of the day.” Then “I’ll show you how I wash them.”
He came over, turned on the water (hot or cold, I don’t know) and started doing triage with the dishes that were there, saying, “This plate doesn’t need to be washed. It just had crumbs on it.” And “This cereal bowl doesn’t need to be washed. It just had milk in it.”
He took a fistful of silverware, ran it under the faucet and stuck it in the drainer. “I wash them like this.”
I picked up a butter knife with butter still attached and pointed the fact out to him.
“Oh,” he said.
“That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll just wash them myself. I don’t mind.”