Jacey gets it right...

Jacey is mother's little helper in the kitchen. If she hears the microwave ding--or if she hears me going to the kitchen--she races ahead to "help." (She has been known to knock me out of the way so she can get there first, but that's a different issue.)

One night last week, I was sitting on the sofa, knitting, and Jacey was upstairs sleeping in my bed. The oven timer went off, and I started to the kitchen to get my pizza. I didn't realize that my tiny bit of knitting on its little needle had gotten caught in the leg of my sweatpants. I was all the way to the kitchen when I realized I was unrolling yarn from the ball, across the living room and dining room. And I could hear the pitter-patter of not-so-little feet as Jacey leaped from the bed, galloped down the hall, and started down the stairs.

I had a clear vision of Jacey getting tangled in the yarn. "Caught" isn't something she handles well, and there'd be panic, mayhem, and yarn everywhere. So I just yelled, "Jacey, stop!"

Bless her heart: she left skid marks in the carpet coming to a halt.

So I collected the unrolled yarn and put my knitting safely back in the living room. Then she got praised and patted and loved on. (I didn't give her a treat because I'm trying not to reinforce her belief that my trips to the kitchen automatically mean treats for her.)