This morning our six year old made herself some toast, buttered it, cut it into tiny squares with kitchen scissors, dolloped it with maple syrup and then poured herself a large glass of milk... that she accidentally knocked into the corner of the table as she carried it over and everything proceeded to splatter onto the floor in a sticky, soggy mess.
Now, often, this would have been an internal battle for me not to get angry. My first response is not always one of calm and reassurance when a mess is created...
