Gunnar Never Cuts the Cheese

I find Gunnar to be much more independent in the kitchen than his sisters were at age 3. I think it's because he sees the girls get their own snacks from the fridge and pantry and dishes from the cupboards. Sometimes it's great, but I've cleaned up enough spilled fish crackers and broken bowls to influence me otherwise.

The other day as I was finishing up my shower, Gunnar came running into the bathroom saying he wanted some cheese. I had visions of him standing in the kitchen in front of the open refrigerator door just waiting for me to come out and get the cheese for him. (We have a fridge-on-top-freezer-on-the-bottom unit, so all but the bottom shelf is out of his reach.) So, I quickly said, "Okay, Gunnar just a minute. Is the fridge open? Go close the fridge. Gunnar, make sure the fridge door is shut. Wait for me."

I quickly dried off and put on a robe to hurry out to the kitchen where I was sure I'd find cold air spilling out into the kitchen aglow with the light from the refrigerator. Not so.

Instead, Gunnar was standing there holding this:

No need to wait for Mom, he figured. He just climbed up in the fridge, pulled the Tillamook Baby Loaf out of the drawer, and took several big bites out of that hunk of cheese a la George Costanza. sigh . . . and laugh