(In this fast-food-couch-potato-culture we live in, I'm sure it be a big hit.)
Anyway, one day in particular, I woke up one morning to lemon juice spilled all over the kitchen floor. And two small children busily wiping it up with sticky, sopping wet towels. It was a sticky situation. Trying to embrace their vibrant outlook on life, I utilized the situation and actually mopped my kitchen floor that day. It worked out great.
And then later that day, their industrious and ever entrepreneur brother (who was also my son, of course), took on the task of scraping the chipping Robin's Egg Blue paint off our picnic table. This was a task I had put off for several months using the excuse I didn't have the right "tools" to do the job with.
But as I observed this son of mine who barely stood past my knee, it impressed me to see his "think-out-of-the-box" mannerisms as I watched him work. Instead of using a paint scraper and a toxic paint-stripping chemical, he dug into the fading wood with a wired dog brush and dye-free, Green Works Natural Surface cleaner. His chubby little arm boasted a growing bi-cep: proof he was putting a good amount of elbow grease into this neglected project.
Not wanting to be out-done by her career oriented younger brother who seemed to already have a degree in Environmentally Friendly Picnic Table Maintenance, the sister of that boy took on a Photography Photo Challenge and created interesting snapshots of household items. Using her hand to shield light in such a way, she tipped and angled the camera in front of all kinds of rare specimens. Like the dolphin bath toy. And her ink-stained purse. And the lamp she had broken during a very fast expedition on her feet through the living room one day.
As the day progressed, so did my children's pursuits in life. During an artistic plunge in the Lego bin, they commenced to having an Apologetic and Debate class. Two of the alpha male children (which would actually be both of my sons), discussed in depth over whether their maternal aunt was both of theirs or just one of theirs. "She's MY aunt," could be heard from one knowledgeable son and then "No, she's MY aunt," was heard from the other equally as smart son. They seemed to finally agree-to-disagree since they both had such fundamentally sound view points. And of course, they were BOTH equally right.
When lunch time rolled around on this particular day, the First Born Son had an idea for lunch. Instead of him just making lunch meat sandwiches, we would both take turns putting ingredients on the bread. He had a regular system designed in his educated head and I believe that some day he just might run his own growing business making gourmet sandwiches in a factory line. Oh wait; I guess Subway already does that. Well, maybe his specialty can be Lots Of Extra Mustard That Oozes Sloppily Down Your Hands And On Your Shirt since that seems to be a popular hit
And so the day continued, one adventure after another.