MY DAUGHTER, ANNABELLE, IS ALMOST TWO, and she considers herself a first-rate helper.

She helps me unload the dishwasher by handing me the dishes. First one fork. Then one spoon. Then one more fork.
She helps take Rocky his food dish. Then, after she drops the dish and food scatters everywhere, she helps me put each dog food piece back into the bowl, one at a time.

She’s eager to join the family business. While I’m explaining a problem to a student, she climbs onto my lap, takes my pencil, and takes notes. I sometimes offer her a different pencil and piece of paper, but no. She knows that’s not helpful.

She assists while Andy is using the computer on taking the computer mouse and clicking on various links or pressing different keys on the keyboard. She’s equally helpful when he is using his phone or the iPad.

She even helps her five-year-old brother! When Colin is pooping, she brings him a book to read, and when he is done, she grabs a piece of toilet paper and climbs on the toilet to wipe his butt for him. So thoughtful! Colin is fine with this, Andy and I less so.

Annabelle’s other hobbies include rolling the trash to the curb, putting away her laundry, and brushing Rocky’s teeth. She’s so willing to help but not yet able to, and I speculate that when she’s a teenager, this will be reversed. Is there any way to shake the universe and get that to even out?

When she is not helping, Annabelle enjoys spending her eight remaining waking hours in my arms while I go about my chores. Specifically, she requests that I hold her and four or five of her stuffed animal friends, who all need to be cuddled while I am folding laundry, cooking meals and washing dishes.

Annabelle is loving and helpful with her family, but she loves no one else. She screams when strangers in the grocery store finger her curls. She runs away if they try to talk to her. When relatives who she doesn’t see often enough want to hold her, she hurls herself onto the ground and wails. It makes things a little awkward at family gatherings. She won’t even let Colin hold her hand (and he says her hands are so soft!) unless she has designated it hand-holding time. She doesn’t like it when Colin sits too close to her, either. She has space issues.

Poor Annabelle. She’s so misunderstood. Outsiders think she’s prickly and standoffish, but her family sees her as thoughtful and (sometimes relentlessly) loving. She’s like that infamous dress. Was it blue and black or white and gold? (Not to brag, but I was able to see it both ways. I’m pretty sure that means I’m Divergent.)

So if you see Annabelle leaving the grocery store one day, don’t touch her. Don’t talk to her. Maybe don’t even look at her. But if you leave your groceries on the sidewalk, she’ll help you carry them to your car. First a grape. Then an orange. Then another grape.

Kirstin Odegaard runs the Benicia Tutoring Center. Read and comment on her writings at www.kodegaard.com.

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