Lately John wants to see what we're doing when we make food in the kitchen. Even if I'm just getting him a bowl of cereal, he'll get all excited and say "see!" while he drags in a chair from the table so he can be at eye-level with the counter. So this also means he wants to help a lot, opening things, dumping items into the bowl, etc. Anyway, he wanted to "help" me make cookies last night, so I would measure out the sugar and let him dump it from the cup into the bowl, stuff like that. Well, at one point I was transferring brown sugar from its package into a storage container and I blew some sugar off the lid, so of course he had to copy me and started blowing on everything.
After a few steps it was time to add the dry ingredients, so I let him dump the flour into a separate bowl and turned to get the baking powder when I heard him sharply blow and start coughing. I turned around to see my counter dusted with droplets of flour and my son wearing a fine film of white flour-dust from ear to ear. I started to scold him but the sight of him blinking at me under a layer of flour and smacking his lips to get rid of the grit in his mouth made me giggle so I just couldn't be mad. Unfortunately I was too scrambled, trying to deal with a slightly explosive mess, rocking Emily with my foot while she screamed in her car seat, and attempting to wipe down a wiggly, flour-covered boy, to think about grabbing a picture. Trust me, it was priceless.
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