A Lack of Flour and Cooper the Pooper
Yesterday after some wine, too many chocolate covered espresso beans, and a sappy book, you all got an odd post from me. So, back to good humor. Reason #126 why I'm up for mom of the year....no flour.
That's right, yesterday I vowed to bake and being the amazing mother that I am, I forgot we were out of flour. I was destined to forge ahead, so scoured my cabinets for an easy mix. We settled on a box of brownies. I let Madison do everything and she had a blast. I only micromanaged a bit when she got distracted while pouring the bag of mix into the bow. Doing as kids do, they turn their heads and their entire bodies, thus moving the bag no longer above the mixing bowl and instead all over my counter. It's OK, we swept it and any remaining residue of breakfast left on the counter into the mixing bowl and went back to work. For six years old, she is a marvelous egg cracker by the way.
Then, we took out my perfect brownie pan, which for those of you who have one know all it does is make your baked delight into perfect little squares. I mean, it does OK and I was sure I needed one of these and I do use it, but it really does nothing special except make me swear in front of my daughter. Out of all of this though, was the conversation I had with Maddie as we were waiting for our brownies to bake. We were watching the noon news and it went a little something like this, which leads me directly into reason #127 why I'm up for mom of the year.
I don't remember what story was on, but the name Cooper came up. Immediately, without looking up or missing a beat, Maddie stated in the plainest, everyday voice she has "Cooper the pooper" and chuckled. Let me explain. My niece, Gretchen, apparently has a boyfriend. It remains to be seen how much of this is really boy and how much is friend, but I guess we'll see. Doing as siblings often do, her's have started calling him Cooper the pooper. After an entire weekend of hearing about this boy that Gretchen so admiringly has her eye on (even with the pooper nickname), I guess it caught on with Maddie.
Immediately, an explanation was launched that it was NOT OK to call someone named Cooper "Cooper the pooper." In my mind I could see it all too well, she returns to school in the new year. New clothes, neat and tidy hair, ready to get back to work and as Mrs. Emery calls on some poor innocent boy in her class named Cooper (although I was sure there was no one named Cooper but you never know), Maddie utters under her breath "the pooper." While I do chuckle every time I hear it, I guess this is the ultimate payback for all those times I taught either my sister's or my brother's children something they should not repeat. Just like the person who taught me that knock knock joke when I was little that ended up having a swear word in it and for at least two years my mother would suddenly stop breathing anytime someone asked me if I had a joke to tell. Least of all when the priest was over for Sunday dinner!
So, I'm off to work on the grocery list, which will definitely include flour should the baking urge ever take hold again. Maddie and I will continue to have some great mother daughter time this week. And I swear, the next time I hear the name Cooper, I will not say "the pooper." Well, at least not out loud anyway.
That's right, yesterday I vowed to bake and being the amazing mother that I am, I forgot we were out of flour. I was destined to forge ahead, so scoured my cabinets for an easy mix. We settled on a box of brownies. I let Madison do everything and she had a blast. I only micromanaged a bit when she got distracted while pouring the bag of mix into the bow. Doing as kids do, they turn their heads and their entire bodies, thus moving the bag no longer above the mixing bowl and instead all over my counter. It's OK, we swept it and any remaining residue of breakfast left on the counter into the mixing bowl and went back to work. For six years old, she is a marvelous egg cracker by the way.
Then, we took out my perfect brownie pan, which for those of you who have one know all it does is make your baked delight into perfect little squares. I mean, it does OK and I was sure I needed one of these and I do use it, but it really does nothing special except make me swear in front of my daughter. Out of all of this though, was the conversation I had with Maddie as we were waiting for our brownies to bake. We were watching the noon news and it went a little something like this, which leads me directly into reason #127 why I'm up for mom of the year.
I don't remember what story was on, but the name Cooper came up. Immediately, without looking up or missing a beat, Maddie stated in the plainest, everyday voice she has "Cooper the pooper" and chuckled. Let me explain. My niece, Gretchen, apparently has a boyfriend. It remains to be seen how much of this is really boy and how much is friend, but I guess we'll see. Doing as siblings often do, her's have started calling him Cooper the pooper. After an entire weekend of hearing about this boy that Gretchen so admiringly has her eye on (even with the pooper nickname), I guess it caught on with Maddie.
Immediately, an explanation was launched that it was NOT OK to call someone named Cooper "Cooper the pooper." In my mind I could see it all too well, she returns to school in the new year. New clothes, neat and tidy hair, ready to get back to work and as Mrs. Emery calls on some poor innocent boy in her class named Cooper (although I was sure there was no one named Cooper but you never know), Maddie utters under her breath "the pooper." While I do chuckle every time I hear it, I guess this is the ultimate payback for all those times I taught either my sister's or my brother's children something they should not repeat. Just like the person who taught me that knock knock joke when I was little that ended up having a swear word in it and for at least two years my mother would suddenly stop breathing anytime someone asked me if I had a joke to tell. Least of all when the priest was over for Sunday dinner!
So, I'm off to work on the grocery list, which will definitely include flour should the baking urge ever take hold again. Maddie and I will continue to have some great mother daughter time this week. And I swear, the next time I hear the name Cooper, I will not say "the pooper." Well, at least not out loud anyway.
Comments
Post a Comment