For her mother's birthday over the weekend, the kid decided she wanted to make her breakfast in bed. Usually my wife gets up before me so she can spend some time with the kids before she has to go to work, but on this day the girl was on strict orders to come over to my side of the bed and knock on my forehead quietly. Of course this happened well before the sun came up. She insisted that she do all the prep work, so she picked the rosemary herself and cut the parboiled potatoes and whisked the eggs while I worked the stove top.


She was so serious about it, and so proud to bring that plate up to her mama. She sat next to her watching her eat and chatting about how she did all the work.


She had so much fun, the next morning I woke to find her delivering me a crepe with Nuttela and perfect little dollops of whipped cream.

Now we just need to teach her how to pop the cork on a bottle of champagne for our mimosas. 

 

Previous Fun

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Our neighborhood has this huge community sandbox area, and sometimes the neighbor kids bring out plastic beach toys (probably the same plastic rakes, shovels, and buckets for sale at every Wal-Mart and Target across the country).  For some reasons the kids don't really use them in the sand box, but I noticed a few weeks ago that whenever I brought over our real metal shovel the kids would fight over it. So we went to the thrift store the other day and dropped about $5 on a huge bag of metal pie pans and utensils and bakeware (again, probably less than the standard plastic beach set at your standard big box). The kids have played with this stuff every day since we brought it home, making all kinds of disgusting food that I have to pretend to eat.
  

It's just further proof that some of the oldest ideas are still the best. Since we started discretely leaving the cooking stuff under a bush near the playground, we've noticed new spoons, bowls, and other utensils have magically appeared in the bucket.

 

Previous Fun

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