Freshly Squeezed

Last night while I was doing the dinner dishes my two older girls started squeezing their orange slices into a glass to make fresh orange juice. When they ran out of orange slices, they moved on to peeling Clementines, sealing them into a ziplock bag, smashing them with their fists, and then "pouring" the residual fresh orange juice into the glass.

I left them alone to perfect their juice-making wizardry while I went up to put the little one to bed. When I started to come back downstairs they shouted, "Don't come down mom! We are making a surprise for you." So I waited for a few minutes at the top of the stairs, wondering if I should be worried as the smell the of toaster oven wafted up the stairs.

A few minutes later they proudly carried a tray of fresh orange juice and cinnamon toast up to me, all smiles. "We even cleaned the kitchen," Katherine bragged, "so that you don't have to spend your whole life cleaning up after us!" I wonder where she's heard that phrase before?