My kitchen is clean and my living room is picked up and vacuumed, after a rather intense vacuum-unclogging session. I made it through thanks to some scissors, surgical forceps and Jacks' moral support. In the oven are two ginormous pots of beef burgundy, one for tonight and one for the freezer. I've even had a shower, and it's not even four o'clock; it has been a Day of Achievement. Jack was super helpful and "did the dishes" while I was cooking, which at the very least resulted in the floor around the sink getting very clean. He has had two obsessions lately: doing the dishes, and toast. We go through about three shirts a day most days. He uses a ton of water and accomplishes more mess than clean, but he works so hard at it that I don't want to discourage his sense of industry. So what if I have to use six towels to mop up afterwards? He's learning that he is competent, developing his sense of efficacy. I have a strong conviction that the reason why so many Americans fail to vote is because their mothers didn't let them wash the dishes when they were young.