It’s scary moving to a new house in a new town when you’re only four.
Preparing food is an act of love. It says, I am here. I will nourish you. You will grow strong in my care. I love to cook with my boy. He takes real pleasure in good food. And I take real pleasure in his sweet company.
He used to explode the eggs and put his foot in the batter. He used to knock the flour bag over. He used to cry at the oven that the cookies were taking too long. Still, we baked.
I suppose it makes sense to start at the beginning, which also works well because the people just get cuter 🙂