So just how do you tell a child, at the tender age of two and three quarters, that you actually, honestly do not want them to help. You appreciate the thought and you're touched by the kindness, but you jolly well know that letting them 'help' is going to lead to nothing but trouble.
You don't because you can't. Even if you were foolish enough to try deny them the opportunity, they'll either pretend to not understand or you end up with a tantrum that can be measured on the richter scale. After all, they're trying to be really good.
Joseph wanted to help at the supermarket. I wasn't so sure, in as much as it's getting quite a faff to wrangle his long legs into the metal framework of the trolley seat and then extract them again afterwards, it still seems less bother than letting him run around loose. I have let him help when I've gone in to buy a couple of things and he'll help carry the basket, but never a full weeks shop.
I relented. After all, he's going to get too big for the trolley seat before too long and then I'll have no choice, unless I'm prepared for the eventuality of having to call the fire brigade to come and cut him out of the trolley as I've managed to get him well and truly wedged.
In no uncertain terms was he told - be good, do as you are told or you're sitting in the trolley. Don't push it, mister.
He pushed it. Also he pushed the trolley and that didn't help either. He did help me pick a good head of broccoli and some potatoes which he quickly realised were too heavy for him. The crunch came when he kept wanting to stand at the front of the trolley and was consistently in the way. He didn't want to stand next to me, no he just wanted to try and get run over all the time. Into the trolley seat with him and it's a difficult enough job even when he wants to be there. Phew!
This evening Andy came home on his bicycle and decided that as we still had a bit of sunshine left he'd give the thing a clean and a little bit of maintenance after dinner. Joseph wanted to help. Now, it was a useful bribe as he kept being told he wouldn't be allowed near the bike unless he ate all of it, and I think it worked, even if he was still a bit on the slow side.
In a matter of minutes he was covered in oil, grease and muc-off, which might work on the bicycle but not on toddlers. When I went out to see what was going on, he was playing quite happily. The bike was upturned for ease of cleaning and Joseph was spinning the front wheel round and round and round and his hands were the same colour as a busy chimney sweeps.
Baby bubble bath doesn't work oil. I had a lot of scrubbing to do, which is hard to do on a toddler who isn't totally convinced he wants to be in the bath and would rather still be getting mucky. I was very close to having to break out the swarfega on him.
In other news, potty training is still going well, he is asking for help regularly and I gave him a lollipop for coming home from the supermarket with a dry nappy.
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