TREAT

1 a : an entertainment given without expense to those invited b : the act of providing another with free food, drink, or entertainment
2 : an especially unexpected source of joy, delight, or amusement

Mid-morning today, K went down to the basement.  I figured she was playing - she and her sisters had been playing down there with barbies, puzzles and a chalkboard.  I didn't think much of it - until she came running through the dining room and went straight into her room, with something behind her back.  Highly suspicious.

"K?  Come here, please," I called.  She came running back in.  (She runs everywhere.  Why walk when you can run?)
"Yes, Mom?"  she says with empty hands.
"What did you get in the basement?" I ask with a smile.
"Oh!  I got bags.  I want to make a treat for everyone in the family! You! Dad! A! B! And even me!"

While tiny K is vibrating with excitement, I'm not quite as thrilled.  Her "treats" tend to result in a lot of mess for me to clean up and sometimes are less than thrilling for the recipients.  (She once fed us bananas with cracked black pepper as a treat.)  She runs into her room to get the gift bags she procured in the basement.  She has a good assortment - masculine, feminine, Christmas, Easter, name your style, she's got it.  And she wants to fill them all with treats for her family.

To buy myself a bit of time, I tell K she must first clean her room before she makes our treats.  I head to her room to give guidance and supervise while she cleans and I read my book.  I only bought myself an hour or so, but I did get a cleaner child's room out of the arrangement.

Later, I come down from the treadmill to find K perched on a barstool that she's pulled up to the kitchen counter.  Scattered around her smiling face are boxes - of a great assortment of foods.  She's put these foods into a large tupperware container and is brimming with excitement: 

"When is Daddy coming home?" she asks. 
"Not for another seven hours, honey." 
"Oh.  But I want to share my treat with him."
"Well, you can share with A and B now and save some for Daddy."
"Okay!"

It's now nearly twelve hours after K mixed her treat.  In that time, she has taken it down the street to share with a neighbor, filled a bowl for each of her sisters and her father, hidden in the basement to munch on it and shared with me from the original container.  On the surface, her treat was comprised of fruit loops, cheddar rice cakes, M & Ms, cheese crackers, peanuts, chex mix and sour Yogos, but the real treat was sharing in K's enthusiasm, a trait she effortlessly embodies.