So a couple nights ago, I went upstairs to put Anju to bed. Nik was downstairs, watching Law & Order (!). After I was done with Anju, I walked over to the top of the stairs and called down to Nik.
So I called out his name again, and waited. And heard nothing.
Then, a quick slam of a door, running footsteps, and then his little face appeared and he said, “Hi mom!”
And I asked, “What were you doing?”
Nik: “I <mumblemumblemumble>”
Me: “What were you doing?”
Nik: “I <mumblemumble> room.”
Followed by a sheepish grin, and not quite making eye contact.
Thinking that he meant he was in the guest room, whose door I generally keep closed (thereby making it an extremely desirable place for a certain little boy), I said, “Okay, now come upstairs for your bath” and forgot about it.
The next evening, I went into the laundry room to start a load of pukey laundry (story to follow!), and this is what I saw:
One of his little chairs pulled up next to the washing machine. All the clothes that I had tossed onto the floor over the past couple days were in the washing machine. The top was off the detergent bottle. The measuring cup was right next to it.
I’m glad I called out to him when I did! Or my little helper would have made a right mess.
One that I would not have been able to be mad at.