can i make something?

can i make something?

One of my little men takes after his momma’s heart. More specifically and better stated: my sweet tooth. :)

He’s our guy who walks in from school, pauses at the back door, takes in a big breath and says, “Ahhhh. What’s that wonderful smell?” When it comes to food, he either loves it or hates it. When he loves it, I guarantee that the cook will feel as though the lottery has been won. When he hates it? You’ll feel like you’ve run over someone’s dog.

An aside: no one in this family is dramatic.

Or a liar.

We’ve made our kitchen into a delightfully scrubbable one. One in which a person might feel free to take risks. Therefore, when he asks if he can make something? I say YES.

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He knows where all of his go-to ingredients live, and I’ve made sure to keep those things at reachable heights for him. Mixer? Got it. Baking stuff? Knows it. Cookbooks? Gathers them up.

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The very first thing taught to all of my boys is this: you must properly lick the beaters. If they didn’t do it correctly or have left tasty morsels behind, I scold them ruthlessly and shame them into trying again.

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The grasshopper is moving swiftly into master status.

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Sadly, my post must end here abruptly.

Um.

No after pictures because we ate them all. Yay blonde brownies!!!

#toobadsosad

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