Yesterday afternoon I called both boys into the kitchen and invited them to help me make cookies. While they are typically game to help (or to at least snitch the dough when they think I'm not looking), I really wanted them to work together to help bake this batch. I felt a surge of pride and love as I heard his brother take the lead with Timmy, explaining why it was important to follow the recipe "this time." Instead of correcting him with a reminder that the recipe should always be followed when we bake, I decided to stay silent and let the conversation play out.
I listened and smiled as Robby intently and patiently explained the significance to his little brother. "A long time ago some bad people crashed planes into buildings. A lot of heroes died that day when they tried to save people because the buildings fell down on them. It was a really REALLY sad thing. The anniversary of that day is sad but Momom and me, and now you too, make cookies to take to the firehouse. We've been doing it since I was a baby. And if you smile they let you sit in the trucks, so that's a nice trade."
Robby has turned into a snarky tween, but it is nice to see glimmers of my sweet little Koopa. I loved watching him interact with his little brother, helping to include him in our family tradition. While I doubt that Timmy understood the story Robby shared, I do know that he was delighted to be spending time with his big brother. It made my heart smile to see them working together and to know that Robby has grasped the significance of our cookie baking tradition.