The Childish Baker

Bursts of color and light explode on the dark horizon.  They are so much more beautiful from a distance.  Their bright magical colors linger just a while longer infusing awe in everyone's eyes.  Fireworks from the fourth inspired me to bake with my little sister yesterday.  I was more in the mood for decorating so we whipped up some simple drop sugar cookies.  With a toothpick I drew little faces in the balls of dough. Some where smiling as I skillfully poked little eyes and a curve of a mouth. Others were sad or sleepy, or afraid of the hot oven.  Olivia laughed as she made her cookie into a Veggie Tales character.  I went with a thin icing, flavored with a little honey and vanilla soy milk. The sprinkles are always the fun part.  I love how little kids take no note of being careful.  I instruct Olivia repetitivley to hold the sprinkles high above the iced cookie.  This way they land evenly. She infoms me that she's got it.  Then she goes and dumps an avalanche of red cristles. 


Baking is one of the best things to do with little kids.  When I was little Mom would let me hit the switch on the mixer.  I loved having the power to blend up something that smelled so delicious. My older sister Katie used to tolerate me in the kitchen when she baked.  One hot midsummer afternoon we baked some inside out chocolate chippers.  I danced playfully around the kitchen so excited to be helping. While she occupied herself with the butter and sugar I attempted to sift the dry ingredients.  This was of course years before my high school chemistry lecture on the importance of units.  I glanced at the directions and saw half a tsp. of salt.  In my childish eyes everything was measured in cups and so I completely disregarded the tsp.  "Katie should I put in the half cup of salt?"  My older sister, otherwise occupied, confirmed my question with, "Whatever its says Jules."  Out of its little spout the salt raced from the container.   I grimace now thinking how I generously poured that salt into the mixing bowl.  I can honestly say Katie and I both nearly threw up tasting that awful cookie dough.  With Mom not home from grocery shopping, we sought a way to get rid of the batter. Down the drain seemed like the best idea. The dark chocolate dough found its way down the sink until it got clogged. In the end we ran water untill the sink overflowed and we broke the garbage disposal. Memories like this remind me to take it easy when baking with little kids :-)