Last post for the day. I'm trying to end on a happy note, damn it. 

This morning I tripped over one of Trung's shoes. I felt like my toe was half broken and I cussed a blue streak before sitting down to check out the damage. Heh. I suppose if I was really hurt I would have collapsed before cussing about it :-D 

It was then that I noticed my darling boy standing there witnessing it all. His brow was furrowed and he looked like he was about to cry. Through teeth gritted in pain I explained that I tripped on Daddy's shoe and that it hurt a lot. He knelt down to look at my foot. I pushed my lower lip out and petulantly said, "My OTHER foot." He got up and went to look at my ouchie toe. 

Then he stood up, picked up the offending shoe and said, "Daddy?" I replied, "Yes, I tripped on DADDY'S shoe and hurt my foot." 

I was still scowling as I watched him walk the shoe over to the shoe pile against the wall and set Trung's big old shoe on top of the others. Then he went and picked up Trung's OTHER shoe and put it away as well. He cleared a way so that no one would trip on any more shoes. 

I was ashamed of myself at that point. My 22 month old son was teaching me proper behavior. I should have modeled that for him. I thanked him for his help. I'm lucky to have such a sweet and caring boy.