Saurus had been making toast. I knew, because the butter was still out on the side - partly unwrapped - the jam was out, lid not even on, there were crumbs everywhere, and so on and so on.
What was interesting was my reaction. Rather than exasperation and debate over angrily calling him back and making him clean up his own mess, or trying to take into account that he'd also made toast for me, Fluff & Dot while I fed Trojan Hero and crossly tiding up myself, I just enjoyed tidying up.
Yes, you read that right, I ENJOYED tidying up.
Because I do, you know - and I mused then and there that there that it was almost an art - no, really an art, with its own enjoyment, and worth doing just for its own sake.
Then I thought - but this is how I should always approach it!
I do, already, sometimes, just enjoy tidying up - I do it because I can, do it because I can do it well, do it for the satisfaction of a job well done, and the satisfaction of providing a service to the family, and the satisfaction of looking after our house which shelters us.
But because it is an art form in and of itself - yes! How ultimately satisfying!
Does this mean I will never again direct, encourage and require the children to help out in tidying up?
Well - no. I buy art supplies and encourage them to use them, I provide music to listen to and instruments to play with and help them choose, appreciate and create tunes.
So I'll still be drawing them to mess, and helping them experience creating order, and providing opportunities to look after their things and their environment.
But maybe I'll be able to be more gentle in that endeavour, now I realise it's an art form to be honed and SAVOURED rather than a stern duty.
Maybe now they'll be able to see, through my actions, the inherent joy of it - just as they've picked up the love of reading, having quietly observed my delighted diving into books.