Nope, I really don't want your help

My kids love to "help" Kevin and I do chores. Lindsay asks, "Can I help?" Charlie, in his broken English asks, "Me. Help?" I hope that this is a sign of things to come down the road that they understand chores and why we all help out around the house. But to be truly honest, I don't want their help. Because frankly, they suck at helping. All it does is slow................me................down.

The other night when they were miraculously playing together in the living room (read: wrestling more aggressively than most parents likely allow), I figured I would sneak to the bathroom and get that disaster cleaned up. But just as I started attacking the week-old toothpaste spackle dotting the sink, counter, floor, and walls (seriously....what are they doing in there when brushing?), the dreaded, "Me. Help?" rang out. And then, just as I found a task for the 2-year-old, the older of the young ones comes in, "Can I help?"

We don't have a large bathroom. So manuevering around 2 kids sounded less than ideal. I tried pawning their help off on Kevin, who was doing dishes, but apparently he beat me to the punch on passing off the help because Lindsay told me, "Daddy doesn't have anything left for me to help with."

Damnit.

So, what I snuck out thinking I could accomplish in 20 minutes took 40 minutes. But I'll be damned if I don't have the cleanest doorknobs, lightswitch covers, and bathtub ledge this side of the Mississippi. Next time I just have to get them helping with dishes before I sneak away to clean.