It was Alden’s fifth birthday this weekend, and Robbi has posted on her birthday morning scavenger hunt over on the Bobbledy Blog this morning.

I spent a considerable chunk of the weekend making a batch of wedding invitations we were commissioned to design and produce.

Because our big work table in the studio is still littered with unpacked boxes from AWP, I was forced to the dining room, where we used to do our cutting and stapling during the early days of Idiots’Books.

As you can see, I created many careful piles of carefully trimmed books that were carefully situated and neatly organized. I was not yet done with my work when I was called into the studio for a conference call.

I was gone for about 25 minutes

When I returned, there was nothing neat or organized about what I found.

There, in the middle of it all, was the culprit. I shared my displeasure and he defended his position. Apparently, he was trying to “help.”

I did my best to explain that certain tasks lay yet beyond the limits of his budding skill set, and that, as much as I appreciated his enthusiasm, I’d prefer to finish the project myself.

My best attempts at gentle diplomacy fell on deaf ears.

It breaks my heart into a thousand tiny pieces to see this small boy cry.

This small boy, on the other hand, was also determined to help. His opinion was that the cordless drill might be the answer to what ailed us.

Robbi came in and set things right, issuing hugs and sweeping up scraps. A few hours later, the task was complete, made all the more memorable by the unexpected interlude.

They say good help is hard to find. In this house, it’s hard to avoid.