I love to cook. I enjoy trying new recipes and feeding my family. But breakfast, lunch, and dinner 7 days a week is still a daunting task. Especially in summer, when two growing kids are asking for snacks or “second suppers” or dessert every time I turn around. If they aren’t sleeping, they are eating. (Or, let’s be honest, fighting.)
In any event, when my daughter announced she wanted to make dinner a few nights ago, I eagerly took her up on it. She pulled out a cookbook, picked out a recipe, and proceeded to read it. She even gathered the ingredients.
She’s 6.
I appointed myself her sous-chef, because her chosen recipe involved chopping carrots, and I wasn’t comfortable handing her a sharp knife. (Side note: Does anyone know if there are any child-safe knives out there that one could actually use to cut up veggies? Because I wouldn’t mind removing myself from this equation entirely.)
Other than that minor assistance, she did it all. Measuring, mixing, cracking eggs, battering the chicken, etc. And the result was a delicious sweet and sour chicken dish that the whole fam loved. Dan took the leftovers for lunch. Big brother even complimented the chef, saying she could give me a run for my money.
Now if we could just get them to fold the endless piles of laundry that somehow materialize in my laundry room, we’d be golden. Speaking of goldens, here’s a gratuitous puppy photo for you!
