Moms tend to wish that they’re children were a little more helpful.

Instead of climbing up the stairs only to scream because they don’t want to slide down . . .

Instead of throwing their pacifiers out of their crib and then screaming about how the land is in a pacifier famine, woe to the masses . . .

Instead of trying to channel their inner Clinton and Stacy by throwing all of the nicely-folded sweaters out of the bottom of their mother’s dresser drawers . . .

Instead of yowling for a banana and then shrieking to high heaven because the banana broke and obviously has lost its nutritional value and deliciously sweet banana flavor . . .

They could be helpful.

Like yowling for food, and then when given sliced apples and dried cranberries in a bowl (because one doesn’t really like apples but does like dried cranberries and sometimes forgets that one doesn’t like apples and actually eats them when they are surrounded by something they like such as dried cranberries), calmly picking out the apples, walking to the garbage can, and throwing them away.

You know, helpful.

Daily Drivel, Little A Adventures