My New Definition of "Helpful"

Yesterday Lindsey came home from school and told me she needed to bring in a small bone or shell today for a "fossil" project.

This is the kind of thing that floors me. Things like this, mentioned casually at 4pm on an afternoon when I have no plans to drag six children to the craft store, make me dream of homeschooling them all.

However, Joey came to my rescue in a most wonderful and surprising way. "I know where to get a bone, mom!" he bubbled. "Can Sam and I ride our bikes into the desert together? We'll be right back!"

Off they went, giggling with adventure, into the desert and were back in 15 minutes with two owl pellets, carefully sealed in a ziplock bag. There were dozens of bones from some small mammal neatly bound together in whatever comes out of an owl's digestive system. Words cannot describe their pride. Or my delight that I did not have to go to the store!

Now, don't get me wrong. Dissecting dried owl vomit to retrieve bones for a project is only slightly more appealing than going to the craft store with six kids at 4pm. But the thrill of having my 9 year old save the day and in such a Tom Sawyerish way brought me nothing but joy.

Now, THAT's helpful!