When I planned to bake with the munchkins today, I imagined them busying themselves with simple drop cookies while I tackled something new to share with you. We’d listen to Christmas carols, everyone would have fun, and we’d tidily check that holiday activity off of the “things we’re supposed to do” list. Except it didn’t exactly work that way.
“I want to use the roller pin.”
The rolling pin? Oh. Er, “How about chocolate chip cookies instead? Or maybe oatmeal cookies?”
“I want to use the roller pin. How come I can’t use the roller pin?”
Oh, my darling half-pint. I mulled over the reasons silently. Because flour will cover a tri-state area. Because the dough needs to be 1/4 inch thick. Because we’ll need to roll the dough a million times, and the dough will get too soft, and the cookies will get too chewy, and…
…and I realized that’s not teaching, that’s managing. Sigh. “Well sure! You can use the ‘roller’ pin.” If I had a tail, I would have tucked it at the sight of his triumphant smile.
Half-pint sprinkled flour over the table, and dusted the floor and a few kitchen chairs for good measure.
He rolled the dough. And rolled, and rolled, and rolled.
He cut a few shapes in the dough, not giving the slightest care to spacing. He even managed to transfer a few tree cut-outs from the table to the baking sheet.
He squished a few cut-outs back onto the table, because dough is fun to play with!
He made Shrek hands.
He even ended up with a few cut-out cookies.
We both learned something today. I learned to let go of overly-tidy, adult expectations of kitchen fun. Half-pint gleefully learned to use the ‘roller’ pin.
It was perfect.
One reply to “Letting Go of Perfect”
That was such a cute little story! Thanks for putting a smile on my face today!