Too many cooks

Today, I decided to bake pumpkin muffins with my children. This is one of those activities where the idea is always way better than the reality.

In my head, I stand at the island in the kitchen. My two sweet, obedient children stand on chairs on the other side. We smile happily at each other as I hand them measuring cups and spoons loaded with ingredients and allow them to alternately dump them into the mixing bowl.

Then, we take turns stirring and in the end I give them spoons to happily lick. They play quietly and patiently while my home fills with the yummy aroma of pumpkin muffins.

Finally, we all sit down to munch on our freshly baked, delicious treats while relishing in the joy and beauty of the day.


HOWEVER, since I am not June Cleaver, the process went more like this:

I stood at the island in the kitchen. My two children grabbed at everything in sight. I scowled as they knocked a half cup of flour onto the floor, stuck their fingers in the bowl, scattered ingredients all over the countertop, pushed each other and continually asked, “Mommy can I lick the spoon now? Mommy can I lick the spoon now?”

And for every time one of them asked that, I said some variation of:
“Don’t touch that!”
“No, fingers out please.”
“Girls, please, I said no.”
“Stop! OK! Stop it.”

As I attempted to stir the batter, Loaf tossed a teaspoon into it. I fished the goopy spoon out and threw it toward the sink. On the way there, dollops of batter splattered onto the kitchen floor.

Finally, it was time to put the muffins in the oven. I turned to survey the destruction. Flour was everywhere including all over my children. Glops of batter dotted the counter and floor. Every measuring spoon and cup lay on the counter (I had to keep taking out new ones every time one went in someone’s mouth).

And as the muffins baked, instead of being able to clean up the mess, I broke up 3 fights and turned off the oven light every time someone turned it on (approximately every 39 seconds).

When the muffins were finally done, my kids sat and ate them quietly and happily, though now there were crumbs all over the kitchen table and under (not that it really mattered at this point).

::sigh::

At least two things turned out the way I hoped. My house did smell yummy and the muffins were delicious.









In this last one, Loaf looks surprised that they taste good. I guess given the chaos that ensued in their making, I can't blame her.