Jeff is my quiet little helper. If he sees me cleaning he runs to get a broom or a washrag to join in. Makes me smile every time. I don't care how much longer it will take with his "help" or how many more messes he may make in the process.
I love that he has a heart wanting to take initiative. I've found him sweeping up messes, washing a window, or organizing the fridge. He does it without fanfare or a desire for praise.
I can tell when Jefferson has been hard at work. I find walls soaking wet from him "washing" them. I find paper towels stuffed around the sink handles. I find drawers packed with toys and books. And I shower him with praise over every job he works so hard to complete.
But being a quiet helper also means he is a quiet sneak. There have been several candy bar casualties and big brother's LEGO raids carried out in complete silence.
And one look into those baby blues is all it takes to not care about how much candy has been snitched. I am blessed to have my helper...and his mischievous quietness that keeps me on my toes:)
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