Dishwashing

     "Would you like to help me wash the dishes?" I asked Clara today.
     She wasn't sure what to say.  It wasn't something I'd asked before.
     I pulled an old chair in from the garage and put it by the sink.  I stood her on it.  She gasped a little in delight at the landscape opening up in front of her.  She had seen me up here before.  She knew there was soap involved because she'd seen the suds on my arms.  Now she could put her hands in the sink.  Grab soapy dishes and silverware from the water.
     "On," she said, pointing to the faucet.  I let it trickle cold water into her side of the sink.  She washed one of her sippy cups.  She took both my sponges and my washcloth and squeezed them out on her chair. She experimented with the spray nozzle (thankfully, she doesn't have the pincer strength to turn it on yet).
    I put her back on the floor when I felt the margin between productivity and mess was too slim for my comfort.
    "Me!  Me! Mommy! Do! Tair! Tair!" she said as soon as her bare feet hit the floor.  She pulled on the chair.
    "Why don't you close the dishwasher for me?  You are the strongest girl I know.  You are really, really good at shutting the dishwasher."
     She smiled a secretive smile and nodded her head a little.  Muttering, she expertly surveyed where the best place to grab the dishwasher door was. She stowed her sippy cup in the top rack and pushed it close.  Then she picked up the door.  There was a moment when she thought she might fail, but then felt silly when she remembered she'd done it a hundred times before.
     She had almost pushed it close when something in the silverware cage caught her eye.  She staggered backward and let the door fall open, muttering in a tone of surprise and self-rebuke.  There were two colorful rubber baby spoons in the silverware cage that she felt shouldn't be there.
     She took the spoons out and appraised them under her breath.  They would have to do.  She brought them over to the dog's water dish and ladled out some water with the orange spoon. I turned from the sink in time to see her slurp water noisily from the spoon and smack her lips in appreciation.  It was almost as though she were at a wine tasting.