4, Going On 74

This morning was our first in a week or so where Gabe, Anna and me were on our own to rise and shine, dress, eat breakfast, dispense meds and a nebulizer treatment for Ann, pack up for school, load up the stroller and walk off to school and not be late.

Around 8:15, when the crucial last 15-minutes begin before we have to walk out the door with everyone suited up for the crisp early-morning soon-to-be-official Spring weather, Gabe walked through the living room grunting and moaning "this is sooooo heavy!!" as he carried his dirty clothes hamper from his room into mine.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Daddy said my room was a disaster... So I am trying to clean it before he comes home... And my turtle basket is full of dirty clothes... So you need to clean them."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, and you should clean your clothes, too. Look at that pile!"

I wanted to launch into an explanation about all of my responsibilities and how "yes, Gabriel, I am a bit behind, but I will catch up soon" but then I realized I will not be apologizing to my 4 1/2 year old, who I swear was born with an old man's soul.

Instead, I pointed him in the direction of where he can place his "turtle basket" (a.k.a. dirty clothes hamper)... Right next to mine, where they can overflow together.

As we walked to school, I gave him a very "nice" lecture about how he needs to respect people who are older than him, especially Mommies and Daddies. He responded by telling me how I need to be nice to him, or else he was going "to go live with my Abuela in Florida and only Daddy will be allowed to come see me."

I gave him a big smile, told him if he still felt that way after school then we could pack his suitcase and drive him to the airport, and assured him that he would miss me very much. I see I have a longer road ahead of me than I thought when it comes to teaching Mr. Gabe the Respect Your Elders Rule.