Yeah, like that’s going to work. I don’t care if he spills half his yogurt on the floor, but he does. One little drip gets on his shirt and it’s “uh oh, uh oh, uh oh” until I get the cloth and clean it up to his satisfaction.

David, like Rose, did not get my slob genes. Quite the opposite.

After we are done the bath, he makes me put all the bath toys back on the shelf. If I forget one little dolphin, he’s all over me. The lid has to go back on the lotion. The lotion has to go back on the counter. If my scarves are hanging out of my drawer, well lets put them back. He dumped the trains out of the box, and then the real fun began, tidying them up. Playing in the dirt involves much brushing off of the hands.

But really it’s that yogurt that’s such an affront. Independence and indignity—not a fair combination.