The kids are helping me clean the sun room, and Izzy reached down to pick up his desk and move it back in front of his art easel.
"Leave that there, honey," I told him, "I'll get it in a minute."
He waves his hand at me and says, "Oh no, no, no, I'll get it. You're pregnant and it's too heavy for you."
He then picked it up and moved it across the room (keep in mind that this is a regular school desk, metal and wood, and it's not light at all), then says to me, "But thanks for offering to help me."
He's such a good boy. His dad would have yelled at me to move it a little quicker already.