Tuesday, November 12, 2013
I had a whole weekending post planned but guess what? Time. It slipped through my fingers AGAIN.
Instead you get three identical pictures of a the sweetest golden boy you ever.did.see.
He makes pizza with me every Friday night. Without fail.
OH- it's idyllic sounding, sure. But the fact is- he makes A LOT more work than help. And, given the teensy counter I have to work on making several large round pizzas- he takes up most of my needed space too.
This past Friday I wisened up a bit and pulled a chunk of dough off and gave it to him to knead over at the table. He added flour. He kneaded. He kneaded until it went from dry to sticky again. He added more flour. I didn't have much hope for it but at the end I figured- what the hey. Let's let him make his own little loaf of bread.
Well, he was just the proudest little baker ever. I cut all the little slices and he buttered them all and ran around giving them to people.
That proud smile, bathed in the golden light of morning...makes a Mama's heart swoon.
(And the bread wasn't half bad either!)