A few years back, my cousin had to stay at the hospital with her dad while he had surgery, so her kids came to stay with me for a few days.
They were still young—maybe around 9 and 11. I wasn’t expecting much. I figured I’d feed them, keep them safe, and that would be that. But what they did? It’s something I still remember clear as day.
I had just gotten back from Walmart. I walked in the house with a couple grocery bags, dropped them on the counter, and turned back around to go get the rest.
Before I even made it to the door, they came running up.
“Donna! You got more?!”
“Yeah,” I said, kind of caught off guard.
They ran out, grabbed every single bag, brought everything inside, and started putting the groceries away.
Without me asking.
Without expecting anything.
Just… being helpful.
I remember standing there frozen like… wait, what just happened?
Kids really do this?
Then one of them, the younger one, held up a bag of oranges and asked me, “Where do you put your oranges?”
“In the fridge,” I told him.
He looked at me like I had just said something wild and said, “Y’all put oranges in the refrigerator??”
I immediately felt judged 😩 but I was like, “I thought everybody did?”
He shrugged.
I shrugged too, with a little smile—and he smiled back.
That whole moment was cute.
And it stuck with me.
Because my own kids? Let’s be honest—they wouldn’t have helped unless I asked. Or bribed. Or got real loud about it. It’s like the thought to just help doesn’t even cross their minds.
And that’s not shade. That’s just real.
Sometimes, it takes a moment like that—watching someone else’s kids—to realize how much you’re doing, how little help you actually get, and how exhausted you’ve become from always being the one who carries everything.
I don’t even blame my kids. I blame the system I created. I trained them to expect me to do it all. So when help does show up, it feels foreign. It feels like a blessing. Like something special—when it should’ve been normal.
Have you ever had a moment like that? When someone else’s child showed you something you didn’t even realize you needed? I’m not saying I want my kids to be somebody else’s—but I do want them to be more thoughtful. Maybe that starts with me.
