I <3 My Kitchen.

[home_and_away]

I love that my little boy loves the kitchen so well.
I think it's because the best times we had when he was just barely a year old were in the kitchen in Pulaski, listening to CDs and sharing cheesy-rice out of the pot.

Then again, it could also be because he almost always gets the bowl to himself for "cleaning" when we bake.

Whichever, he's usually a wonderful help, reminding me how much of what we need, ferrying things to the trashcan, and stirring like one of the three wyrd sisters over a cauldron.

("Bubble bubble, toil an' trouble
Fire burn? EVE'YWHERE!")

But before he gets the bowl, he knows he's got to come out of his shirt so he doesn't get it all messy. We can clean the boy a lot faster than we can clean the shirt.

I just wonder what his future dorm-mates are going to make of his habit of cooking half naked.



In other news, Doulande has finally copped it. That poor plant. I think his days were numbered from the second he got off the truck and landed on my doorstep for a long winter's wait.

Note to self: the next time you get a plant, make it something prickly and hard to eradicate. And name it Aubrey.

Requiescant in Pace, Doulande.

Comments

Words of Experience

[viola-blues.livejournal.com]

Word of advice for the handsome young half nekkid man...

Wear an apron when frying up bacon.

Re: Words of Experience

[ladywind.livejournal.com]

One of these days I'll have to tell you the wee story about waking up my crew of boys before school. To this day, every time I see a pair of green silk boxers, I grin. ;)