While I was cooking, Jake disappeared into the living room with a muffin tray and a glass of orange juice. Some time later, he reappeared with wet dungaree legs, softly saying “Uh oh”. As I predicted, he was informing me of a spillage. I told him it was fine, covered it with a cloth and returned to the kitchen. He followed, holding the muffin tray partly filled with orange juice. As he put it on the floor, he spilled some. Without my asking, he ran to the living room, retrieved the cloth and wiped up the spill in the kitchen.
This moment filled me such pride and affection for Jake. A few hours later, the immediacy of it had passed. Even as I was retelling it to Paul, I wasn’t able to do it with the intensity of the feelings I had then. But maybe writing it down to be rediscovered later will bring some of that back. Otherwise, these little details could so easily be forgotten.
There were other moments too – asking Jake to bring me the blue cloth and he trotted off and brought me the right one. Then his refusal to let me use the cloth to wipe up more spillages so I pointed to them and asked him to wipe them and he did, with great efficiency and gusto!