A Tale of a Sweet Little Boy

My son is a very sweet little boy.  Sometimes.  Yesterday was one of those days, and this morning too...   And I'm a mean mommy who made him cry.  In my defense, this is how it played out:

I get up and get dressed for the day, knowing I have to work early.  I mediate two fights before I'm fully dressed, direct both kids to go change for school, and finally come out to make lunches and get myself something to eat.

The boy is in the dining room, spreading cream cheese on a bagel, I note, and move on to make some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  While I work, I toast myself some Toaster Strudel, run to the garage for juice pouches and fruit & nut trail mix bags, toss an apple in the lunch bags with the other stuff, and call it good.  Zip it up, spread the frosting on my strudels, and turn around to a little boy standing there holding up a large glass plate to me.

"Mom, I didn't think you'd have time to make your breakfast, so I made this for you," he says.  In a tone that sounds just like, "Mom, I thought you might want a cookie, so I was getting this for you," when caught with hand in cookie jar.

I tell him I wish he'd told me he was making me breakfast, because I just finished making it myself.  Maybe he can eat it for me?  He says he's already eaten.  Tears well up.  I say maybe we can give it to Dad as a surprise.  He goes teary again, but nods and takes the plate to Dad, who is still in bed sleeping.  Doesn't say a word to tell him he's brought food, just leaves it there on the bed.  I didn't accuse him of lying, and didn't want to waste the food, and thought a surprise for the other parent in the house might help appease his desire to help.

When he comes back into the room, I tell him that was very nice of him, but I wish he'd told me he was making a surprise for me.  I wouldn't have made myself breakfast if I'd known.  He bursts into tears and tells me he wanted it to be a REAL surprise, so he didn't say anything.  :*(

Poor little dude.  Many hugs ensued, but then I had to go to work.

Fast Forward to this morning.  He made me another bagel.  Before I could get up.  Left it on the bed.  By my legs.  Didn't tell me it was there.  And as a result, it ended up on the floor.  Poor little dude!!

I can't decide if I haven't explained the breakfast in bed idea well enough, or if he's just so set on secrecy, he keeps foiling his own plots.  Sigh.  So the sweet boy fails again.

I wonder what he'll do tomorrow...