Blushing pigs

Another sign that Little One isn’t so little anymore. On the heels of the home visit from his first grade (gasp!) teacher, I descended the stairs yesterday morning to find the door to the kitchen closed. This gesture is generally reserved for things like secretively decorating a birthday cake or sneakily making something you don’t want the others to find out about (think a whole batch of brownies you don’t want to share). In this case, it was a sure sign of Little One not wanting to get in Trouble for doing something messy/dangerous/he shouldn’t be doing.

He did jump a bit when I came into the kitchen through the dining room (the closed door is a mere gesture in this open floor plan, since we removed the other doorway to the kitchen when we remodeled ten years ago), but I had nothing to fear. Armed with a dog-eared copy of The Little Pig’s First Cookbook, he was intently following the pictures as best he could to create Betram’s Blushing Pigs. They (or rather it) consist of a half tomato tummy, carrot stick legs and raisin eyes. He had an appropriately sharp steak knife, but there was no blood, so there was no Trouble. He was happy to have me read him the pesky bits of text that held the pictures together, but other than that, I was strictly hands-off.

Once finished, he proudly brandished his creation. We’re cooks, right Mommy? Yes we are, said I. Would he eat it, I inquired? Yes. Then he looks at it. No, it’s for Papa. Who dutifully polished it off this morning.