Lemonade.
It started with lemonade for snack. Innocent enough.
"We should bake something today," I said to Daughter #2, who is home from preschool. She had been talking about lemons all morning, because she now has a thing for how the dishwasher soap smells. ("Mmmmm.....Lemon!" she croons.)
So, I found the recipe for Lemon Loaf (The Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook). I knew we didn't have a lemon in the house, but we had lemon juice--good enough.
Well, no sooner had I found the recipe than I heard the plastic cup hit the table, followed by the sound of dripping. Lemonade on the table, #2's skirt, her chair and the floor. This after my husband joked that we should track how many spills happen at our kitchen table! And lemonade isn't milk, if you know what I mean. (That Pledge shine is really a sticky puddle of lemonade to the touch.)
Got #2 cleaned up. We pulled out lemon juice and the rest of the ingredients and cooking tools to start our baking venture. I measured flour, baking powder, salt and sugar, and poured them into the bowl. Her favorite part is the stirring. I gave her the fork to stir with (per instructions) and let her go.
Well, no sooner had I put some tablespoons and measuring cups in the sink than I heard the sound of flour hitting the floor. It was more like a very large tablespoon (or 3) but it made quite a sound.
"Be careful!" I said.
She started back in, and this time, I saw the flour fly. (Note: flour sticks great to lemonade.)
"OK!" I said, and took the bowl.
Well, no sooner had I taken the bowl that I finally looked at her and realized the problem. If you read my Mom's Day post, you know Daughter #2 is in a cast--her stirring arm! Now she never said anything about stirring being tough. She just tries to be ambidextrous all the time...not letting her "lemon" get the best of her.
"This is all my fault," I said. "This is Mommy's mess."
So I cleaned up all the dishes, and I swept up the flour and mopped away the lemonade. And an hour and a quarter later (plus a little more for lemon drizzle icing--which I let her brush on), we had warm Lemon Loaf and big smiles.
The moral? When life gives your preschooler a lemon, don't cry over spilled lemonade. Make Lemon Loaf and value her zest for life.
It started with lemonade for snack. Innocent enough.
"We should bake something today," I said to Daughter #2, who is home from preschool. She had been talking about lemons all morning, because she now has a thing for how the dishwasher soap smells. ("Mmmmm.....Lemon!" she croons.)
So, I found the recipe for Lemon Loaf (The Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook). I knew we didn't have a lemon in the house, but we had lemon juice--good enough.
Well, no sooner had I found the recipe than I heard the plastic cup hit the table, followed by the sound of dripping. Lemonade on the table, #2's skirt, her chair and the floor. This after my husband joked that we should track how many spills happen at our kitchen table! And lemonade isn't milk, if you know what I mean. (That Pledge shine is really a sticky puddle of lemonade to the touch.)
Got #2 cleaned up. We pulled out lemon juice and the rest of the ingredients and cooking tools to start our baking venture. I measured flour, baking powder, salt and sugar, and poured them into the bowl. Her favorite part is the stirring. I gave her the fork to stir with (per instructions) and let her go.
Well, no sooner had I put some tablespoons and measuring cups in the sink than I heard the sound of flour hitting the floor. It was more like a very large tablespoon (or 3) but it made quite a sound.
"Be careful!" I said.
She started back in, and this time, I saw the flour fly. (Note: flour sticks great to lemonade.)
"OK!" I said, and took the bowl.
Well, no sooner had I taken the bowl that I finally looked at her and realized the problem. If you read my Mom's Day post, you know Daughter #2 is in a cast--her stirring arm! Now she never said anything about stirring being tough. She just tries to be ambidextrous all the time...not letting her "lemon" get the best of her.
"This is all my fault," I said. "This is Mommy's mess."
The moral? When life gives your preschooler a lemon, don't cry over spilled lemonade. Make Lemon Loaf and value her zest for life.
Comments
MJT (you know who)
Funny side, when my D#2 came into the room while I'm reading this she said "Hey, that looks just like 'insert D#2 name here'".
I said it is "D#2"! She was quite interested how she got inside the computer. SMILES!
Vonda