bap⋅tism [bap-tiz-uh-m] –noun

 

1. a ceremonial immersion in water…

I opened the kitchen door, just back from visiting Mom. Right away I spotted the little snow boots on the rug. Peeking around the corner I saw Kaitlyn, perched on a kitchen chair in front of the sink.

“Hi sweetie! What are you doing at Grandma’s house today?”

Kaitlyn’s face breaks out in a big smile, “I’m washing dishes!”

Grandpa is at the counter, getting ready to put fish sticks in the oven. He smiles at me and says, “Kaitlyn and Chrissy came over today to go sliding, but weren’t ready to leave yet, so they are staying for an hour or so."

I’m thinking – what a bonus – I get to hug my sweeties plus I get my dishes done – all at the same time!

Kaitlyn has dishcloth in hand, washing up a storm. The sink is filled with a couple inches of warm, soapy water and she meticulously scrubs the plates, forks, spoons and cups. I cringe as she picks up a glass – I can just imagine her breaking the glass and cutting her finger. Seeing the distress in my eyes, Grandpa quickly comes to the rescue, trading the glass for a plastic cup.

“Grandpa, this chair is getting really wet,” she remarks, and he gets a towel for her to stand on. “My pants are getting really wet too, Grandpa.”

I look at Grandpa and we both smile, as we continue sopping up water from the chair, floor, and surrounding kitchen countertop.

Chrissy is rinsing and then drying the dishes. A six year old with much more dexterity than her four year old counterpart still complains that Kaitlyn is washing too fast – she can’t keep up rinsing and drying. I notice the cold rinse water and think, while it may not be the recommended method, it is certainly not going to hurt us just this once.

“You’re doing a good job, Chrissy! You must help Mom at home all the time with dishes,” I tell her.

In a whiny, but still forceful voice my strong-willed granddaughter replies, “MY MOM NEVER LETS ME DO DISHES!!!”

(In defense of my daughter-in-law, I can assure you that there is another side to her story…)

Grandpa inspects the dishes as he puts them away, returning a couple bowls to Kaitlyn for a second wash. As quickly as our girls came, they were gone - Mom and Dad returned to pick them up – and the dishes were done and put away.

By now, moonlight is peeking through the window. As I get ready to turn the lights out in the kitchen and head to bed, I notice a glistening spot on the end of the kitchen countertop – under the box of Kleenex.

A puddle of water.

I smile to myself as I get yet another towel and wipe up the water. It appears that my new kitchen got quite a baptism tonight.

What a fitting end to a splendid Sunday.