Last night we had a minor sump pump emergency that could have been bad. Our pump died in the middle of heavy flooding in the area and we have had a flood in the basement before. It had been working hard all day and we needed it to continue, but it died. So the sump pit in our basement started to quickly fill on the brink of flooding over.
Mr. Clean had to race to the store and get a new one while I used a temporary measure to keep the water level in the pit lower than my basement floor. But it needed my absolute attention. At the time I had the girls in the tub and Iggy was just about due to wake up and eat, and you can set your watch by that baby's tummy. I could not do much for either situation. So I pulled the girls out of the tub while Mr. Clean
I raced back to the kitchen to make a bottle for Iggy when my boy, my perfect, wonderful, almost eight year old boy offered to get Iggy and feed him for me. K.Z. has never done this without one of us there to supervise, but my sump pit was ready to runneth over if Mr. Clean did not get to the store to replace the pump, stat, so I agreed that he could. My little man was ready to take on a job that most adults shy away from.
K.Z. expertly fetched, carried, fed and burped Iggy one floor away while I stood guard at the sump pit. Then he played with him to keep the baby happy so I would not be stressed over my lack of being in twelve places at one time. If I were any prouder I think my heart would have burst. I just had to share.