...but sometimes they can lead to one.
Tonight Dale was cleaning up the supper dishes and, in true 10-year-old fashion, carried Brooklyn's plate to the next room. He wanted to know if he could eat her leftovers.
And, in true 10-year-old fashion, he dropped the plate, food side down.
Fortunately for the carpet, most of the food landed on Brooklyn's blanket. This, however, was more of an unfortunate development for the hour before bedtime. Said blanket should have been safe in its bed, not the playroom floor.
THE blanket, the ONE that we MUST have for sleeping, was now dirty. :-/
We proceeded with our bedtime routine as usual. When I tucked Brooklyn into bed I gave her a sweet, soft little blanket printed with pastel cupcakes. When she balked, I talked to her like a big girl and reminded her the other blanket was dirty. (She had seen and noticed it herself.)
The age 4 and up crowd sat together in the next room and finished our bedtime prayers, but we could all hear Brooklyn crying in her bed for her blanket.
As soon as the last 'Amen' was said and the boys all scattered for last minute hugs and potty stops, I looked up to see Dale with a wet soapy paper towel and a certain gingham and flower print purple blanket, scrubbing away.
A little spot cleaning and he presented his sister with THE blanket she needed.
I love that boy. He's alright, you know.