expectation

I was so impressed when our younger daughter
managed to make her own bed.
No small feat that.
A double bed pushed into one of the corners of her room.

I came down the steps from upstairs
in progressive praise of her accomplishment.
“You did that all by yourself?”
“What?”
“Made your own bed?”
“Yes.”
“Without any help?”
“Nope.”
“You did a great job!”
“Thanks.”

Downstairs, I then said,
“Now you know what this means, right?”
“What?”
“Now that you can do it, I’ll expect you to do it.”

Pause.

Came then the quiet comment from her older sister,
“And that’s not a good thing.”

Expectation.
Celebration and burden.

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