I woke up this morning to the alarm (luckily) and found Josh in the kitchen looking like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Actually, he was at the counter with a large can of baked beans. When he saw me he panicked, afraid of what I'd say.
The can had a triangle-shaped hole in the top that was ragged and sharp. I fought the urge to laugh or shake my head, because he was obviously frustrated.
Josh LOVES to be able to say "I did it myself, nobody helped me."
I said, "having some baked beans?"
"Yes," he said, "but it's hard."
He had managed to pour off the sauce, into a bowl that was way too small, but the beans were stuck in the can. "How did you get that hole in the top?" I asked. He swiped the counter and said "with scissors."
While the images of mangled fingers and blood all over the kitchen swirled in my head, I managed to get the can open and pour them into a bowl.
"What was I thinking?" he said as he walked off.
"Aren't you gonna heat them up?" I asked. "Oh, yeah, duh" he replied and turned around to put the beans in the microwave.
Today, I'm grateful for the alarm, the patience to keep from freaking out and damaging his self-esteem, and the unique problem solving skills that Josh is still developing....