29 May 2013

A Spatula in the Right Hand, Cooking Spoon in the Left



It never fails.

Every morning, when I go in to get L up from bed, he gives me a quick hug and then jumps down to the floor.

His little feet start moving, just as quick as they can, and he's bee-lining for the kitchen.

Although he often wants to eat as soon as his eyes are open, its not the food he's running for. Not a seat at the dinner table, or his highchair.

It's the utensil drawer -- that's what he is after.



Every morning, he runs as quick as he can into the kitchen, pulls open my drawer of soup ladles, spatulas, and cooking spoons.  Grabs himself a handful, and then ... and only then ... calms down with Mommy.

Once he has those spoons, all is right with the world. At least for the time being.

Who knows -- maybe when he gets older he'll want to be a chef. Or at least enjoy cooking enough to occasionally give his mom a break! I can only hope!!

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