When Xander wakes up, he usually comes upstairs to terrorize us into getting up and then we coax him into climbing into our bed so we can try to eke out a few more minutes of sleep. Of course, as anybody who has ever shared a bed with a 4-year old who is ready to get up knows, this produces unsatisfactory results for everybody -- Xander squirms, taps on the wall, talks to himself, digs his elbows into the tender bits of our anatomy etc until one of us can't stand it anymore and gets up.
A couple of days ago, Xander apparently decided that he was tired of trying to get us out of bed, and so he brought the fight to the enemy, so to speak. He walked into our bedroom at 6am carrying a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and jam, set them on our bedside table and announced that he was hungry and was going to make himself a PBJ sandwich. My first instinct was to tell him to take it all back to the kitchen, but then I figured that our bedroom was in such a shambles anyway that a few breadcrumbs wouldn't make a difference, so I sent him back downstairs for a knife to spread the peanut butter with. He then proceeded to make himself a PBJ sandwich, and insisted on making one for me and Christina too, so we all started off the day with breakfast in bed.
Now we just have to train him to make tea, eggs, and bacon and we'll be all set.
