about a week ago, during that crazy time i think of as “dinnerbathbed,” the bean came up with a plan.
“let’s bake carrot muffins!”
my inner dialog, “um, no.”
my shared response:
deep breath. “right now it is a little bit too late in the day for us to start a project like that which will take a long time. it is almost dark out so we know it is time for bath and bed soon.”
followed by much protest.
followed by a lightbulb moment. “why don’t we get some paper and come up with the plan of how we will make the carrot cupcakes?”
“but i can’t write.”
“that is ok, you can draw the plan.”
that night we talked about what things we might need to bake carrot muffins. mixing bowls, aprons, measuring spoons, flour and the like. while we talked he was busy drawing:
after we had thought of every possible thing we might need i reminded him that i was not certain because we needed a recipe. so, of course, i had to find a recipe. right.now.before.bathbed.
trusty favorite bread book to the rescue:
after i found the recipe (for carrot bread) i was instructed by my bean to write each ingredient on the back side of the the plan so that we knew exactly what we needed. example, “carrots A LOT.” (a lot added by a certain four year old.)
the plan was a popular item. night one he slept with it. in the morning he ran to the master bedroom to show it to flash. it got toted around with us in our bag.
the next morning he woke up and wanted to get baking. at 6:14 am. i reminded him (gently i am sure) that we did not have all the ingredients we needed. we agreed we would go to the store later that day. i made my own grocery list and he brought the plan. he insisted that i carry the plan so that i could read each ingredient i had written on the back and make sure we bought it all. mission accomplished.
for a day or two there was no mention of the carrot bread project so i let it slide. remember, around this time flash was suddenly on crutches and i was feeling busy enough.
last night, once again during the magical dinnerbathbed time beanie suddenly perked up. i was wary.
“we need to grate the carrots! for the cupcakes!”
oh yes. i mean, “ok. we do need to do that to make our carrot bread. right now we can’t start that project though because it is too late. it is going to be dark soon so that means now we need to do our bath and bedtime. we can make the carrot bread tomorrow.”
“but, i want to make it now.”
“i know. we are not making it now though. there is not enough time. i am tired.” some dictator some honesty.
“you said that already.”
“we need to remember to make it earlier in the day,” i suggest.
“i always forget,” he scowls.
“i can remember,” i tell him. feeling of course that sudden guilt that i have remembered and simply chosen not to delve into it.
“i will remember for us tomorrow morning,” i promise.
of course i didn’t have to. we got to work promptly after waking up at what i like to think of as dawn because then it sounds quaint and romantic. we mixed in all the ingredients and then he looked at the plan and said, “wait! we forgot something. it is a bottle with a top. um, it is a small bottle with a top.”
ok, readers, please scroll up and look at the plan. just to see if you are as impressed by his recognition of objects he drew as i was. i looked at the recipe aagain and we had not forgotten anything so then i had to think of what i might have thought we would need and mentioned to him before we found a recipe.
“vanilla?” i tried.
so i threw caution to the wind and added some vanilla to the mix.
by 8 am we had our batch of carrot bread rising and a few minutes ago we put the dough into the loaf pans to prepare them for actual baking:
now it is baking as i type and it smells good. it is funny how these things often end up bringing me joy after all the myriad ways i resist them – imagining them to be just extra work in my day. what might be so bad about carrot bread?
oh please, don’t ask the bean that. i can assure you he won’t eat it. he only eats three things. bacon, parmesan cheese, and sticky o’s.
he has not yet discovered the joy of all things food but he clearly is being raised in a family that loves cooking…