So I guess Dave and I have different definitions of 'helping'. See, I consider helping as anything that allows me to get stuff done. So yesterday when I was cranking out all sorts of delicious toddler sized bites that Nolan completely refused to eat for lunch today, I considered him helping. Sure, he got a little messy. Sure, he got a little (er, a LOT) on himself.
And he got a little on the floor. And he got a little in the measuring cup. All the while Dave couldn't control himself laughing at the mess Nolan had made.
This was awesome though! It never occurred to me that Nolan 'helping' is merely him not hanging/pulling/pushing me but rather letting me be and allowing me to get stuff done. At any rate, he was an excellent 'helper'. I'm certain he handled every speck of flour that was put into the muffins. Don't worry, we won't offer them to you if you came over to visit or play- they are too good to share, anyway.