During the Fall and Spring semesters of our local college campus, my Dad, in the capacity of Church of Christ Bible Chair Minister and Biblical Studies professor, cajoles groups into cooking so that the B.C. can provide a free meal for all willing participants once a week (i.e. come to the Bible Chair and we’ll feed you).
This weekend Mom made several cookies for the coming meal, and then Dad dropped half of them in the dirt while transporting them to the car. Accidents happen and this gave me the opportunity to make some brownies.
Since my brain was running in approximately 53,000 different directions, give or take a turn or two, I thought this would be the perfect time to engage my daughter in some pretend play in her own play room, and sneak off to concentrate on something a trifle more mundane than the multiple stories and sewing projects I was trying to sort out into some order. This is, of course, not the way things went down.
Here is what happened when I tried to ‘think’ and have a moment to ‘breath’:
First – Monkey wanted NOTHING to do with playing! She rolled on the floor, she begged for a movie, she cried, she may have even kicked her feet…but even bodily picking her up only got me a bruised thigh before that tall munchkin was down and away again, without going into her play room.
Fine then, I freely admit to defeat and hand her the tablet. She goes into her tent (bed-tent. The most awesome invention for a bed besides the maneuverable head and legs that I used to play with on Mom’s queen sized bed. Sorry Mom.)
So then I think FINALLY, and move on to part two.
Second- I get out the simple yet amazing brownie recipe. We have everything! I decide on a double batch because, I kind of want there to be left overs 😉 Diet be darned right!?
I melt the butter while kicking the kid back out of the kitchen. Seriously, this isn’t even the beginning of the ridiculousness!
Third- melt the butter, add the sugar, kick the kid out of the kitchen. Deal with a fit…pitch a small one of my own (Might as well). She goes, I mix, mix, mix…double batch means double stuff, means the whisk is heavier on my biceps. This is a good work out!
Fourth – Go to add eggs, finally give in and let the kid mix in each of the 8 eggs (camp brownie recipe doubled here guys…I’ve got 70 brownies cooked!)
She even gets to break one. Woohoo…
Argue over the fact that we do NOT need more eggs.
Send her to play with her Snow Cone play set.
Fifth – Halfway through mixing all of the remaining ingredients into the batter, she’s back. Guess what? Monkey finally went into her play room, to her play kitchen even…and came back with her own miniature whisk. I don’t let her play.
Sixth – put her back with her snow-cone play set, with more ice and the whisk. She’s mixing and crunching, and back at the counter before I even get back in the kitchen.
Seventh – she leaned on me and watched me mix until it was all incorporated. I’m claustrophobic. Not a happy mama…but we made nice and I was able to get her out of the kitchen once the batter was poured into pans.
Eighth – I spoke too soon…guess who thought rinsing meant we were doing dishes? Or rather, that she was going to do dishes. What a big helper she wants to be today…
Ninth – brownies baking, Monkey eating, I’ll sit down to work on something. Oh goody, the sub-conscious aiding ‘break’ I just had did NOTHING to help my addled and confused to-do list because I couldn’t get a moment to breath. Greeeeaaatttt But it’s ok guys, she turns three in a week so at this point I’ve got frazzled down to a science.
Monkey is too smart for her Mama’s own good!
Good news? At least it became fodder for my blog!