Did you know I'm awesome?

Dion found a can of fruit in the fridge earlier.  Although I'm pretty sure she went to fetch a water bottle, she must've found the lone cherry on the label on the canned fruit cocktail too irresistable to pass up.  I was rocking Macy in the living room when she shouts to me, "Mom!!  Tan I hab this fruit?"  It took me a second to think about what she may have found... well, alright, longer than a second - cause she then yells, "Welllll!!!????!!!  Taannnnn I??".  I said, "Uhh, yeah... sure."  I hear some rustling in the utensils drawer as she looked for the can opener, which in all actuality was more like the noise that came from the chimney sweeeper guy on Mary Poppins when he plays that all-in-one instrument on the streets.  I can hear her dragging the stool across the kitchen floor and I say, in a helpful yet coverted attempt to avoid her dripping sticky fruit juice on the floor, "Dion, if you bring the can to me I'll open it for you."  She replied quickly, and a bit offended I could tell by her tone, "No thanks.  I tan do it by myself."  So I wait... silently counting in my head how long it would take her till she needed me.  She's quite determined if you didn't know her... cause I finally stopped counting.  She was definitely giving it her all as I could hear the can sliding around the counter and then the can opener slipping off the top of the tin can and slamming onto the counter.  Forget the sticky floors, I started to wonder if the counter was going to come out atleast repairable.  I smiled as I visualized her little frustrated face concentrating on getting to that lone cherry half out of that impossible can.  The smile turned into a chuckle that I tried to keep silent as I listened to her huff.... and puff... and even growl once.  lol.  Finally, it happened, "MOM!!!!!!!!  I need you!  Do you know how to use this can opener??"  Alas!!  "Hmmmmm, I think so, Dion..." I replied, "... coming."  I laid Macy down and sauntered into the kitchen, all the while listening to her still wrestling with this disobedient can opener that had become her worst enemy.  I walked around the corner and into the kitchen only to see her with the can opener barely hanging off the tiny lip on the top of the can... sideways.  "Alright, lemme see here..." I said, slipping my hands inplace of hers.  She stood there, still, a foot to my right, on her stool, clasping her surely sore hands together, watching... watching me, the can opener, and the can.  I turned the can opener right-side up, slide it onto the lip on the can, and started twisting.  She tilted her head and leaned toward me so she could see around my hand to the sharp blade that sliced into the lid.  "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, that's how you do it!!  How do you know everything???" she gasped through her ear to ear grin.  I opened the cupboard door  by my head, pulled out a bowl, drained the dreaded sticky juice syrup down the drain, and dumped the prized contents of the can into the bowl.  Dion jumped down off the stool, retrieved a spoon from the silverware drawer, and came back for her fruit... and the cherry half, which there were three of, which made this whole feat even more rewarding.  I handed her the bowl.  She turned and walked away toward the table and without even looking back, still hearing the grin on her face, she announced quite proudly, "My mom is sooo awesome!!"

So... there you have it.  I may not know how to cure cancer, or be a nurse in a third-world country (yet)... but!!  I know how to use a can opener.  And that makes me pretty awesome!  Just ask Dion.