As I was finally making my way upstairs last night, my daughter called out, "Mom. Did you fold the laundry?" I wasted no time in launching into a lecture about my hard life. A full day at the office. Then running around to pick up and drop off kids and pets. Dinner to make; a kitchen to clean up. Some time for office work at home, then bill paying. I didn't even get around to dusting and vacuuming the downstairs hallway. I only have two hands ... and I went on and on ad nauseum. (You should have heard me!)

My daughter said nothing.

I walked directly into the laundry room, and atop the washer and dryer was that clean load of laundry. All neatly folded. Only those items that were too high for my daughter to reach were left out for me to put away.

Foot, with high heel, went directly into mouth. Finally, I was at a loss for words. And it was a good thing. I was thrilled with her, and disappointed in myself. There were lots of hugs and endless thanks that continued this morning. My daughter's growing up. Maybe I should follow suit.