My little helper
His favourite place is by my side. Peeping over my shoulders, peering from a gap betwixt my arms. How much? What next? What do I add now? Amma, Amma, Amma… Questions and queries are fired at me. Yes. He is my little helper! The kitchen is where he likes to be… with me. Giving me a helping hand whether I want it or not! He pulls up a stool and places it right where I need to stand near the stove! “Can we place this to the left a bit?” I ask politely. “Ammmmma…I can’t see then” he whines. I roll my eyes in exasperation, as I try to move the furniture to a spot mutually agreeable by us! Then the instructions start. You have to tell me what you want. I will bring it for you is his reasonable request. Which I promptly forget as I reach out for this or that. Not that my kitchen is so large I can’t just put my hand out or up, and get it for myself. But I must heed the little boss. Cut up with me, he upbraids me. “I want to get it for you, I want to get it for you” he repeat...