helper

I spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, preparing for Sunday dinner guests. Kim was out home teaching, which left me feeling a little short-handed. Ella and Audrey were napping, and I thought Lauren was, too, until she wandered into the kitchen in her underwear holding her blanket. "Can I help you, Mom? I love to help." I was already watching the clock and didn't feel like I could afford to be distracted, so I said,
"Not really, honey, but thanks for offering." She watched me quietly for a couple of minutes and then said again, "I really love to help you, Mom."
"Okay," I told her, and came up with a couple of small jobs to do. As she did them, she chimed, "I sure love to be in the kitchen with you, Mom. I like to help. But I mostly like to be here with you."
She watched as I poured the milk mixture over my tres leches cake, and told me, "You make the best cakes, Mom! They taste so good. But they're also made with a lot of love."

I needed that.