(I'm not, though.)
L loves to help with her baby brother's diaper change. She selects which diaper will grace his bottom and she pulls wipes out of the container (one. at. a. time...) and hands them to me for use. She's involved - fantastic!
Until it wasn't.
As I do most afternoons, I picked the girls up from school and naturally I had their baby brother with me. As I got him out of the car I smelled that distinctive aroma letting me know that his nethers needed attention. This happens a lot at daycare pickup, so much so that I build enough time into being at school to attend to his changing and feeding demands. I use the infant room's changing table and rocking chair. That will be his classroom soon enough, so I figure I'm just giving him a head start on familiar surroundings. And at the end of the day, when the younger kids have all abandoned their classrooms to that noble evening cleaning crew and gathered in E's class to play together, the girls get extra time to run around, so everybody's happy.
Except for the other night, when I arrived to find L midst-temper tantrum. She didn't want to play, so she wanted to be my helper with her brother's diaper. And she didn't want to use the infant room, she wanted him to be changed on the table in her room, the two-year-old room, and she didn't want to stand by me as usual, she wanted to climb up on the table with him, because it's her table.
She loves that table because it has a pull-out ladder so the kids can climb themselves up to assume the position. She wanted G to climb up, too. She wasn't satisfied with the explanation that he'll have to learn how to sit up before he can climb up. To prove her point, she didn't wait for me as I gathered baby, diaper, wipes. She climbed up and pointed to where I should lay her baby, his diaper, her wipes.
As I nakedized his bottom I paid little attention to her actions, assuming she was opening the wipes, as per custom. Instead, to my surprise and dismay, she was donning a pair of the blue latex gloves that her teachers wear when they wipe bottoms.
The dancing double standard. I couldn't convince her that she could skip the gloves because it was an inter-family diapering event. And it took forever, because she lacked the coordination to remove the wipes while she wore gloves. So she would remove her glove, remove a wipe, replace her glove; then remove her glove, remove the second wipe, replace her glove. Unfortunately, I needed many, many wipes.
Was I entitled to my surprise? Probably not - the girls do love to adhere to the rules they learn. Was I entitled to my dismay? Yes.
Those two gloves had already been lying on the table, inside-out, when L climbed up. Those gloves were pre-used.