“Want to help me make cookies?” I asked Kiera. It was getting late in the evening and close to her bedtime. She was curled up on the couch watching a short cartoon, so I wasn’t sure she would budge.
“Sure,” she replied, giving her cartoon one last glance before following me into the kitchen.
“What are we making cookies for?” she asked as she climbed on her step stool.
“Well, tomorrow is Shane’s birthday and since he is in my office, I am making him a special treat,” I explained.
It’s kind of a tradition at Willie’s T’s. We all take turns making or bringing a special treat for our co-workers that work in our area. Shane is one of the graphic designers that works with me.
“Why don’t we just give him those?” she asked as she pointed at a box of cookies.
I laughed softly. That had been the store clerk’s reaction as well when she asked why I was baking.
“Well, we could buy already made cookies, but then it wouldn’t be as much fun. Also, we want him to know that we put some thought into his birthday,” I tried to explain my reasoning to her as best I could.Kiera considered my answer for a minute as she washed her hands. “I will help. Your office is the best and Shane has a really good spot in the corner.”
I smiled and shook my head at her description of Shane’s area and pulled out the ingredients to make the cookies. I set the new bags of flour and sugar on the counter in front of Kiera.
“Can I open this?” She asked as I turned away to let the dogs in.
“Sure, baby.” I replied.
Now, here is where I feel bad. Unbeknownst to me, Kiera pulled a small steak knife out of the knife block and attempted to use it on the sack of flour. I turned in time to see her holding the knife and bending her pointer finger.
“Oh, honey!” I exclaimed. “Did you try to cut it open?” I hurried over to her and she picked up on my anxiety.
“Ye…esss….” she said on a wail. Then the tears started. I quickly scooted her over to the sink to examine the cut on her finger. Turning on the cool water and rinsing it, I looked it over. She had managed to scrape a tiny knick onto her knuckle. Thankfully, it was not serious at all.
Aaron brought a clean rag to put pressure on it while I calmed her down. She held the rag on her finger and with a small sniffle said, “I’m going to watch my cartoon.”
I couldn’t really blame her. I grabbed our first aid kit and followed her to the living room where I bandaged her finger.
After a few minutes of watching cartoons, she was ready to try baking again. This time I showed her how to open the flour and sugar bags without having to wield a knife. It’s easy to see the similarities in us sometimes.
Kiera opened a drawer to locate the measuring spoons. “Look! My apron!” She excitedly exclaimed holding up her pink and green polka dotted apron.
She dug through the drawer a little more. “And here is your apron, Mommy!” She said as she held it up for me to see.
I took the apron from her and put it on.
“Can you tie this on me?” she asked holding the apron in place around her waist.
After tying the apron on, she turned to access my apron and declared us ready to begin.
Moving her stool, she slid it over to another counter so that she could reach the spatulas. “I need that too,” she said pointing at a wooden spoon.
“No, baby. You don’t need it. All you really need is the spatula.” I moved to redirect her attention off the wooden spoon.
“I really do need it,” she argued.
As a parent, you learn there are some battles that just aren’t worth the fight. I grabbed the wooden spoon and handed it to her. She smiled happily before sliding it into her apron pocket. I’m pretty sure the spoon was actually part of the official assistant chef look that she was going for.
That thought was solidified when she looked my apron over and shook her head sadly that I did not have a pocket to put a spoon in.
We managed to finish making the cookies without any other incidents. Now, Kiera is asleep and the cookies are cooling on the counter, waiting to be topped off with chocolate. Once they are finished I will pack them all of them up for Shane’s birthday tomorrow. Well, all but one.
One cookie will be held back for my assistant chef who was injured in the baking process. I’m pretty sure Shane won’t mind.
Rowonna McNeely is a graphic artist for Willie’s T’s Screenprint & Embroidery. She is a mother of a five year old girl and step mother of two adult girls. Her crazy life includes a dog, Sloane and psychotic cat, Gracie. Both females. She is married to her prince, who is outnumbered by the opposite gender.
