I read on a forum about a family that was having trouble with the kids complaining about the house not having any food. The trouble was summed up very clearly when it was pointed out that there was apparently a discrepancy with the definition of food. As far as the kids were concerned food equals something already prepared that they need to do little to nothing to in order to consume it. In the kids eyes Mom was only buying ingredients.
In that case, we don't really buy any food at all (except for fruits and veggies most of which require little more than a rinse in the sink).
I love to watch my kids interact with one another. I love that I can use them to cheer one another up or ward off a funk. If the Storm Sprite is upset I can often encourage Little Man with little or no coaxing to come talk with her and try to cheer her up. In fact, usually I don't need to do anything and he comes to see what's the matter of his own volition. This can be done by him shaking his head back and forth 2 inches from hers with his nose all scrunched up and a big grin dominating his face as he says repeatedly, "Gimme those smiles! Yeah, yeah! Gimme those smiles!" Other times he is more mild and simply pats her and reassures her that he is there, (or I am there, or Daddy is there).
Likewise, if Little Man hasn't woken himself from his nap by 3, I know that I have a much better shot at a happy child if I bring the Storm Sprite in with me and lay her down next to him as I try and rouse him. Instead of getting a wimpy, whiny boy, I end up with one grinning and snuggling his sister for a few minutes before he decides he is ready to get up and move on with the day.
Of course, since they are both human (and still rather small, immature ones at that) it can also be frustrating to watch their interactions. The two of them were sitting on my lap giggling and tickling and having a grand old time. For no apparent reason this went suddenly downhill as Little Man bit his sister's finger. No warning. No reason. And that was the end of that merry scene.
Little Man loves his daddy. I have numerous pictures of Little Man copying, helping, or just following Hey, Babe in whatever he is doing. One of the things that he wants to be able to do with Hey, Babe, is mow the lawn. He has his own little plastic walk behind mower, just like his daddy does. Unfortunately for him, we don't let him use it while Hey, Babe is actually mowing the lawn because we have too many rocks in our yard that might become accidental projectiles.
One particular day as Little Man joined Hey, Babe putting his equipment away, he decided to help. To do so he bent down pushed on the body of the still very hot mower and before anything could be done had burned his fingers. Thankfully it wasn't a bad burn but still it hurt, especially for a child only beginning to expand his repertoire of painful experiences. Since that occurrence, when we tell him not to touch something and that it is hot or dangerous he always asks, "Like a lawnmower?" In our house it is not hot like a stove. Nope. Around here, it's dangerous like a lawnmower.