A couple of hours ago I was trying to cook dinner (yes, husband...if you are reading this it's true! I am cooking dinner tonight!) and my four year-old daughter and her friend were playing around on a counter near me. I was only half paying attention to what they were saying, but I was catching snippets like, "Take out the banana; she's allergic to banana," and, "Don't look, Mommie. It's a surprise."
I was starting to get frustrated...I needed the counter space and my kitchen isn't nearly as spacious as my last, which sometimes irritates me irrationally. I was about to ask the girls to take it someplace else, when I thought to myself that I really ought to figure out what it was they were doing. So, being the cool mom I am, I eavesdropped and spied on them.
*giggle*
"More butter!"
*giggle*
"It's MY turn to stir!"
*giggle*
"Mom, don't look, it's a secret snack for you!"
*giggle*
"Where is the salt?"
*giggle*
"Mom, bring us the salt but don't look!"
*giggle*
"Put some candy in there."
*giggle*
"MY turn to stir now!"
*giggle*
"More grapes."
*giggle*
"More grapes."
*giggle*
"More grapes."
*giggle*
"Mommie, we need salt!"
*giggle*
"And un-yee-ons."
*giggle*
This went on for quite some time. I had to pretend I wasn't watching the creation. I faked not noticing the humongous (at least three tablespoons) fingerprint-laden pat of butter snuggled next to smooshed banana, some papery garlic skins, a lemon-skin punch biopsy, and shrapnel from lacerated grapefruit remnants.
While I watched, my memory whisked me back when I was in lower grade-school and would gather flower blossoms and crush them into a bowl filled with water. I would create a thick emulsion that I would then strain into an old ketchup bottle...and call it perfume. I remembered how proud I was of my "perfume," and how excited I was to present my mom with my offering. Her response was invariably enthusiastic; she would carefully tap my concoction behind her ears and on her wrists, and then sniff with what was clearly a discerning nose. Imagine my pride when my creations were greeted with approval!
Those memories flooded in, and I readjusted my perspective. I went from pretending I didn't know what was going on to full-on participation. Ignoring the dinner preparations for a mere five minutes or so, I indulged them. I even ate a butter-caked grape (gack)(I mean, Super Delish!). Once I was done with my performance, they were done with me and went on to dress the Cutest. Puppy. Ever. in clothes that no self-respecting Havanese should have to endure.
This Mommy learning-curve is...unpredictable.
You are such a patient Mom. I would have been agonizing over the mess and just not enjoying the experience at all. Good for you! I'm sure they were very proud.
ReplyDeleteI agree that you might be the best mom ever for not chewing on your arm and crying about the mess, like I probably would have done.
ReplyDeleteButtery grapes leads to Fear Factor?
ReplyDeleteCute story!
ReplyDeleteI try so hard to enjoy the moment and not stress about the mess. Good job! I can't believe you went to far as to taste their creations. Yuk!
ReplyDeleteThat so sounds like my girls. They love to make me desserts--ohhh yummy !
ReplyDeleteCute story!
Awww,, how cute! You're such a good mom. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm being widowed March 1-6 and then later in the month...outlet time? ;)
I made perfumes as well. And gave them names like 'misty mornings' or 'strawberry summer'. My Mum didn't every put them on though, which kind of hurt and confused me at the time but was probably a sensible (and safe) decision on her part.
ReplyDeleteHow cute!!
ReplyDeleteI guess at least what they were making it out of was edible material.
It's so hard to put yourself back in their tiny shoes, I comend you!