First, he "helped" himself to some oatmeal. World's worst cell phone picture ever, but you get the idea. Those are (were) freshly cleaned tile floors, for the record.
Forget the Quaker junk, he fed the floors the expensive organic stuff. Of course.
Then, he "helped" me pack up a bag of old clothes to haul to Goodwill. But before I could get it the bag into the vehicle, he grabbed a little somethin' somethin' out for himself. (Flattering cut for him, right?) He wore it while he "helped" me vacuum. (Read: followed me around slamming his toy vacuum into the baseboards OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN.)
The "helping" wasn't limited to yesterday. Just this morning, he's "helped" me dispose of a roll of toilet paper (right into the toilet, cardboard tube and all), "helped" me finish my soda by snatching it off the counter and chugging what was left (while I plunged the toilet), and "helped" his sister stay hydrated by sticking a sippy cup spout into her ear. Three times. Helpful!