Sharing

Last Sunday we were all sick so we missed out on most of church. I still had to go, however, because I had agreed to be King Benjamin in a primary class. Well, lucky for King Benjamin that his appearance earned him a cupcake! A cupcake that someone could smell before I even opened the door back home.

"What's that in your hand dad?" asked Kallie.
"A cupcake!" I said.
"OOOOOoooooohhhh, I LOVE cupcakes!! Dad, you have to share your muffin!" (For some reason the words "cupcake" and "muffin" are interchangeable to our children).
"Don't take such a big bite that there is nothing left to share Dad," Kallie warned me.

Now to be fair to Kallie, she is my MOST sharing child. She would give anyone anything if she thought that they wanted it, even if it isn't her's to give (we're working on that). She is also my sugar monster. I've hidden some pretty clever things in this house over the years (including an entire king size bed frame that my wife didn't find!), but no one has EVER hidden candy in this house without Kallie finding it. I can hide an oreo cookie between the plates of a waffle iron on the highest shelf of the pantry at 2 am, and Kallie will ask me to get it down for her the next morning along with a glass of milk. If the world were to end, I somehow think we would always be able to find food with Kallie around. With that in mind, this morning's events should not have been a surprise.

Ben woke up a little earlier than usual and found me downstairs in the kitchen. He noticed that the cupcake was still sitting untouched on the counter from yesterday. After drooling over it for about 5 minutes he started asking me questions about it. Finally, I told him that he and Kallie could share it after their breakfast. No sooner had the words left my lips than from the far upstairs corner of the house I heard a bed spring pop and a small voice yelled, "WHAT?!?!?!?!? WHAT DID YOU JUST TELL BEN, DAD!!?!?!?!?!?!" I could not stop laughing long enough to answer her. "WHAT DID YOU TELL BEN ABOUT THE MUFFIN?!?!?!" and then the very anxious pitter patter of little feet brought my angel rushing down the hall and stairs. "What did you say, Dad? You have to share your muffin!" It was a little while before I could turn to her with a straight face and tell her the deal. Needless to say, it made her day.