I have renamed Bubba Little Miss Helpful.

Because she is.

Things she loves to help with include …

Picking up dog fur – generally a couple of strands at a time (there’s a life-long task, right there).

Opening my wardrobe and selecting my shoes (apples don’t fall far from trees do they?) – it doesn’t actually matter if I’m already wearing shoes – or if I’ve got one and the next one she hands me doesn’t match, I just need to try them all on (again, apples). I fear us getting out of the house on time in the mornings in years to come may be in jeopardy!

If I’m holding her at the right level, turning light switches off and on. This task is accompanied by a squeal of delight when the light comes on, and a very serious look when it goes off again.

Closing things. Doors, cupboards, drawers. It doesn’t matter if I need them open – washing machine, laundry door (nope, mumma, I don’t want the door open so I’m just going to close you in the laundry – as if I don’t spend enough hours in there already?!), kitchen drawers (but I’m not finished unstacking the dishwasher yet bubba), the dishwasher door (oh yes you are mumma).

Opening them again if they are sliding doors (our wardrobes) because that’s fun and you never know what you might find that you can take out and put back in again.

Carrying many things at once (teddy, shoes, bottle) accompanied by ‘uh oh’ and a plea of help on her cute little face when one or more of those things drops. But when I pick it up, am I allowed to carry it for her? No way lady, give it back, I CAN DO IT.

Okay Bubba. Or rather Little Miss Helpful!