A week or two ago, I started cleaning up my kitchen one afternoon. Tommy had been following me around, but didn’t follow me into the kitchen. He stood in the dining room looking in at me with almost a scared look on his face.
I called him to me and he started toward me, but then quickly retreated back to the dining room.
Stumped, I went to him. I sat down on the floor by him and Tommy crawled into my lap. After a moment he must have felt brave because he started into the kitchen with his hand stretched out like he was going to touch something.
His bravery didn’t last long and he quickly returned to my lap.
That’s when I noticed the thing that was disturbing him so much.
The sun was shining in the window just right and all my dirty dishes something in the air caught that light just right and made a nice sunbeam.
Being the totally understanding and comforting mom that I am, having figured out the problem, I tried to force him into the light.
Tommy would have none of that.
He ran out of the room screaming.
At least he left the dishwasher alone while I loaded it.
