Emeril at Age Nine

I have a child who in interested in EVERYTHING. He loves science; wants to be an inventor. He is also an art lover. He could spend the entire day outdoors with his friends, if given the opportunity. Ditto in front of the television.

And he enjoys cooking.

In first grade he took cooking as an after school activity. He loved it. He is usually interested in helping with whatever meal is being cooked. As long, of course, as he is around to help and not absorbed with one of his other interests.

Today he decided to bake some muffins.

I opened and drained the can of blueberries before he had the chance. I simply didn't want to deal with the mess that he would inevitably make. He insisted, however, on doing the rest ALL BY HIMSELF. So I left him to it.

Luckily, I stayed in the room.

Mind you, these muffins came from a mix in a box. Complete with directions. He dumped the mix into a bowl, and then got out the milk, eggs, and oil. I looked over in time to see him pour milk into the bowl. Directly from the carton. Failing to notice the ingredients list at the top of the directions, he simply saw the part that said to pour the milk into the bowl. And so he did. I'm sure he would have just as happily added "some oil" as well. I wonder how many eggs he would have deemed appropriate. We'll never know.

The milk was easy to spoon out, and luckily he hadn't put too much in. I showed him the ingredients list, and he continued on his merry way.

And the muffins were pretty good, too.

Revenge of the Jack o' Lantern

I'm increasingly lazy in my old age. I like prepackaged foods, precut meat, and precut veggies. So it can be a bit frustrating living here where there is very little in the way of laziness enabling products. If I was living at home in the US, I'd be buying canned pumpkin this year. Alas, even our commissary has no pumpkin. Pumpkin pie filling only. So this year I once again chopped up our Halloween pumpkins and am now in the process of boiling them, in preparation for the peeling and pureeing process. Pumpkin bread, here we come!

However, the Jacks apparently aren't too happy with being cut up. Since completing the aforesaid cutting process, I have rinsed, soaped, rubbed, washed, washed, washed, and lotioned my hands. There is STILL a residue on my hand. Picture the driest skin you've ever had, barring cracked skin. That is my left hand right now.

That's ok, Jack. I'll heal, and you're still gonna be bread. Yummy, yummy bread.