Baking with toddlers.
My niece Julianna is a spy. We’ll be sitting around, chatting or having lunch, and she’ll say, out of the blue, very very meaningfully: “the monkey at the playplace is very scary.” And it is clear that she expects a specific response, although none of us know exactly what that response is. “The blue camel is falling down.”
The creche on my coffee table was quite interesting to her. “Look, baby Jesus lives in a castle. With a butterfly!” (The angel, of course.)
Nieces are great. I can let her just eat frosting if that’s what she wants. It’s not my job to worry about nutrition.
Okay, back to digging cookie crumbs out of the upholstery!
My niece Julianna is a spy. We’ll be sitting around, chatting or having lunch, and she’ll say, out of the blue, very very meaningfully: “the monkey at the playplace is very scary.” And it is clear that she expects a specific response, although none of us know exactly what that response is. “The blue camel is falling down.”
The creche on my coffee table was quite interesting to her. “Look, baby Jesus lives in a castle. With a butterfly!” (The angel, of course.)
Nieces are great. I can let her just eat frosting if that’s what she wants. It’s not my job to worry about nutrition.
Okay, back to digging cookie crumbs out of the upholstery!
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