I've been a bit under the weather lately and went to bed early last night. Ethan showed real concern and assured me he was going to take care of me. For a couple of hours, he would come in and out of the bedroom asking loudly "Are you OK Daddy? Need anything? I'm taking care of you!" He brought me two cups of ice water, and his mom told me he did it all by himself by dragging a stool to the cupboard, getting glasses, and filling them with ice and water. Later, he decided he needed to make me a "recipe" which means he gets out a Pyrex mixing bowl and virtually everything you can think of from the cupboard including spices, oil, etc. His concoction is a sickening menu of goop, but he was proud of it because he thought it would make me feel better. When I thanked him and asked if he wanted to be a chef when he grows up, he answered excitedly, "Yeah, when I'm bigger I'm gonna be a rock star and a cooker!" He danced off singing "Separate Ways" by Journey. I felt a little better.