Tiny Givers of Love: Or, Tea Parties and Eyelashes

My kids are sweet when it comes to being compassionate. The other day, while being in a lot of pain, our dog couldn't get up to eat so Aidan helped him by bringing his bowls of water and food to him, gently stroking his head and long smooth back while Jack ate. And little Grace couldn't stop talking about "Jack sick. Jack go to the doctor." I was in the kitchen, getting my dog's medication in order and drawing up a chart to keep track of which pills to give at what time (yes, it's that confusing), when Grace came running in.

"Mommy, Jack sick! Where's Jack?"

I looked around the corner and saw Jack, lying semi-hidden between the loveseat and the ottoman in the living room on the opposite end of the house. "He's in the living room, Grace."

"Aawwwwwww," she coo'd, "Poor Jack sick." She quickly galloped out of the kitchen to be with him.

She went into the living room and opened a drawer, digging out her miniature tea set. I heard the clink of porcelain as she grabbed two teacups, one for Jack and one for herself. She zipped over to Jack and proceeded to administer tea to her friend, instinctively knowing -- as all Irish folks do -- that tea cures all ills (and probably even degenerating backbones). Aidan was playing with his Hot Wheels, watching this loving interaction unfold.

"Ugh, Grace!" he said with a huff. "You can't give tea to a dog!" He rolled his eyes at her obvious lack of knowledge, unlike himself, the Great Knower of All Things. "Besides," he said with superiority, "Jack doesn't have eyelashes."

I started cracking up from my perch in the kitchen. "What's that got to do with anything?" I asked, more than curious at his reasoning.

"Jack's a boy," he answered, equally superior in his response to me as to his little sister. "Girls have tea parties and eyelashes."

I love the reasonings of a five-year-old. I'm still chuckling over that one.