Teaching independence - my bad

Rascal is 3 years old now. He's potty trained, can sort of dress himself, and clears his own plate from the table. He imitates every move Husband, Tweenie, and I make.

Oops.

This morning I made a vague comment about grocery shopping. Actually, I was planning on goofing off until 12:30 (when Y&R comes on), then afterwards halfheartedly finishing my chores and running out for groceries and take-out at the last minute. I didn't explain all these other plans to Rascal though, and so he assumed we'd leave right after Cinnamon Toast Crunch brunch.

He raced off, shouting about his scawwy wowoff shoe-ies (new Spidey sandals) and favorite dino tee. I shuffled off to the shower first. He was annoyed about this, but quickly stripped down and jumped in with me. He insisted on using Husband's Adidas bodywash.

"I too, mumum, I be saxy," he told me seriously. (Where did he get that??)

Later I herded Tweenie toward the van, while Mama's big helper attempted to carry Kye. There's an 8 pound difference between them, so he was using something like a choke hold to drag Kye to the door. A strange grunting noise quickly alerted me to the situation - it was Rascal. Kye was completely indifferent to it all.

Shopping involved even more helping. Mostly the cart-pushing (aka "droving") was a sticking point. Also, he felt Husband should get Heineken instead of Coors Lite - which was on sale, by the way, and therefore not negotiable.

At home later, he noticed an abandoned pair of safety glasses and decided he wanted to wear them for the rest of the day.

"Okee, we cheese now mumum."

??

"Cheeeeeeeeeeeeezzzzzze!!!!"

Right-o.