Our Little Helper
I got a phone call...
"Hey, what's the code to their garage door? I got all the way over there and couldn't remember it."
(He had driven back home (3 miles) to use our phone, since we'd cancelled our terrible cell phone service.)
I gave him the code.
He drove back to their house and opened the garage door, only to find the inside door (the one they never lock) locked.
"Well, Reiley, what do I do now?"
"Use your keys, Papi."
"My keys won't work here. There must be a key here someplace..."
"Look in the shoe."
PR started searching inside the various shoes lined up on a shelf. Bingo! He found the key.
Never underestimate the observation powers of a two year old. PR should've just asked Reiley for the garage code in the first place.
This evening I had my own adventure of sorts. I took the laundry from the dryer to the kitchen to fold it, and while I was gone Reiley put the rest of the dirty clothes into the front loader, closed the door and started the washer. He'd have put in the detergent and softener, too, if he'd been able to reach that high.
I'm trying to figure out how to harness all that energy and helpfulness.