kids . . . can't bake with'em. . .
It's cookie time again. 'Tis the season you know. Every type, color, and combination of flour and sugary goodness, wrapped up in sugary goodness. Oh! My goodness. . . I said sugary goodness twice.
As luck would have it, my wife is working and I get the pleasure of making chocolate chip cookies with the kids. One batch you ask? No. Well two, yeah, everyone makes a double batch. Three times a charm? FOUR. (Did I make the green?) yes my esteemed friends and colleagues, the numeral preceding 5. Well there's Davids teacher, and assistant, and classmates and Kaitlyn's teacher and classmates, the crossing guards, friends, neighbors, Somalia. . . Four batches is not a lot.
That is unless you are mixing up all of the ingredients with a 6, 4 and soon to be 2 year old. I found a bowl we used once for punch (the H.M.S. Punchbowl; just slightly smaller than the Titanic) and proceeded to add "stuff" to it. Now had I been by myself, I could have simply dumped this into the bowl with out a glitch. But with the kids, I had to measure each item out into a smaller bowl first. Then I had to be sure they each had the same amount to add to this "vat o'dough" so that I didn't have to hear about how unfair life is.
David: "Hey, that's not fair, she has two granules of sugar more than I do".
Me: "Well sometimes life is not fair."
Kaitlyn: "Why is life not fair daddy?"
Me: "It's just not, get used to it."
David: "mommy never said that to me."
Kaitlyn: "Me either. . . are you sure?"
Me: "Just pour your stuff in a shut-up".
Kaitlyn: "shut-up is a bad word daddy".
David: "When mommy comes home your going to have to eat soap"
Me: (mumbling) "This just isn't fair."
David: "That's what I just said!"
We are also going to bring back last years tradition of the game "find the eggshell". If you get one, you win! This way you know their made with Love.
I finally got the skid-steer parked and we were ready to mix. "where is the mixer?" they asked. We are going to use our hands so go wash. Now I go with them to wash hands. When we get back the baby has a big. . . let's just say grin. With chocolate all over her face. "Did you eat some chips, baby?" "No". We start to mix and it's funny for about ten seconds. Then it's "I don't like the way the eggs feel daddy" "This is gross, right, daddy?" "Is this what guts feel like?" And naturally we have to go there; "This is like poop right daddy? (giggle)!". Why would I know that?
What were our parents thinking having us help?, and I do use the term loosely. It's so much more work.
It's fun too. Cookie dough and milk as we wait for the first batch. Trying to guess the total number of cookies we will get. Seeing them smile and laugh and lick their fingers. . . 375 degrees kills germs, right?
Now we have this mountain of cookies resembling Devil's tower (Close encounters?) that have to be put on plates and in bags and delivered tomorrow. But for now, daddy gets some quiet and some milk and cookies all to himself.
Hey look. . . I'm a winner!
For now. . .
As luck would have it, my wife is working and I get the pleasure of making chocolate chip cookies with the kids. One batch you ask? No. Well two, yeah, everyone makes a double batch. Three times a charm? FOUR. (Did I make the green?) yes my esteemed friends and colleagues, the numeral preceding 5. Well there's Davids teacher, and assistant, and classmates and Kaitlyn's teacher and classmates, the crossing guards, friends, neighbors, Somalia. . . Four batches is not a lot.
That is unless you are mixing up all of the ingredients with a 6, 4 and soon to be 2 year old. I found a bowl we used once for punch (the H.M.S. Punchbowl; just slightly smaller than the Titanic) and proceeded to add "stuff" to it. Now had I been by myself, I could have simply dumped this into the bowl with out a glitch. But with the kids, I had to measure each item out into a smaller bowl first. Then I had to be sure they each had the same amount to add to this "vat o'dough" so that I didn't have to hear about how unfair life is.
David: "Hey, that's not fair, she has two granules of sugar more than I do".
Me: "Well sometimes life is not fair."
Kaitlyn: "Why is life not fair daddy?"
Me: "It's just not, get used to it."
David: "mommy never said that to me."
Kaitlyn: "Me either. . . are you sure?"
Me: "Just pour your stuff in a shut-up".
Kaitlyn: "shut-up is a bad word daddy".
David: "When mommy comes home your going to have to eat soap"
Me: (mumbling) "This just isn't fair."
David: "That's what I just said!"
We are also going to bring back last years tradition of the game "find the eggshell". If you get one, you win! This way you know their made with Love.
I finally got the skid-steer parked and we were ready to mix. "where is the mixer?" they asked. We are going to use our hands so go wash. Now I go with them to wash hands. When we get back the baby has a big. . . let's just say grin. With chocolate all over her face. "Did you eat some chips, baby?" "No". We start to mix and it's funny for about ten seconds. Then it's "I don't like the way the eggs feel daddy" "This is gross, right, daddy?" "Is this what guts feel like?" And naturally we have to go there; "This is like poop right daddy? (giggle)!". Why would I know that?
What were our parents thinking having us help?, and I do use the term loosely. It's so much more work.
It's fun too. Cookie dough and milk as we wait for the first batch. Trying to guess the total number of cookies we will get. Seeing them smile and laugh and lick their fingers. . . 375 degrees kills germs, right?
Now we have this mountain of cookies resembling Devil's tower (Close encounters?) that have to be put on plates and in bags and delivered tomorrow. But for now, daddy gets some quiet and some milk and cookies all to himself.
Hey look. . . I'm a winner!
For now. . .
posted by Tgears at 5:07 PM
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