When it comes to the kitchen in our house, Dad is the master chef, Mom and #2 are the bakers, #1 is the critic, and #3 is the garbage disposal. This evening, when Melissa went to a(nother) meeting I decided to bake some brownies with the kids.
#2 and I had an interesting conversation towards the end. I got out the Pam cooking spray (never settle for anything less than the real Pam, she's the best...) and greased the pan before flouring it. I put the spray back on the counter.
"Dad? What's that for?"
(Thinking I could use this moment to teach deductive reasoning) "What do you think it is?"
(Pointing to the P) "It says Poison-us on the can."
"What?!?" (Laughing) Why would I use that?
"So you can Poison-us and eat all brownies by yourself."
He then looked up at me, eyes gaping in fear, lips pursed tightly together and stealthily took the can off the counter, climbed onto the counter, opened the cupboard, and put the Pam away. After quietly closing the cupboard and getting down he plead to himself, "I'd still like a brownie..."
It's good to know he does not fear death. Just lack of brownie...
... and then he opted for the doughnut Melissa brought home because "I've never had one of those before."
Poor deprived child. Good thing he's not a merman or he'd sell his soul to a sea-witch for a cupcake.
1 comment:
Hilarious! What a great story. Funny writing too!
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