Independence

So, if you don't already know, I am FIERCELY independent.  This explains a myriad of things about me (leaving home at 18 alone, often refusing to ask for help, and of course stupid things like forcing myself to spend hours learning how to do things that I don't really need to know how to do).  Well, surprise, surprise people, Brooklen has inherited this trait from me.  He just turned two and a half and he insists on doing EVERYTHING on his own.  He likes to get himself dressed, do chores on his own, and as of last week, make his own food.  Entirely.  Don't get me wrong; I am not complaining about his independence and determination.  I just find it, well, funny . . . because it is so completely obvious where he learned it from.

A few days ago, I told him that we were going to have lunch.  I suggested that we make peanut butter and honey sandwiches on leftover homemade rolls.  Brooklen thought it was a good idea, but he quickly instructed, "I'm going to do it myself, Mom."

He literally pushed me into my room (yes, literally) and shut the door.  He told me not to come out.  I waited a few minutes, then tried to venture out into the kitchen.  "No, Mom; I'm not done," I was told.

Finally, he allowed me to enter the kitchen.  This is what he revealed.  What a proud mom I am.  He got out the plate, peanut butter, honey, and knife, all on his own.  His cut the rolls open (with an dull knife) and spread the filling on the sandwiches.  ALL ON HIS OWN.  How cute is that?  The only catch:  He made both sandwiches for himself.  I was told that I needed to make my own lunch!