GingerBinks

Last night, in an attempt to repair the somewhat rocky relationship I've had with Keira over the past few days (see Keira 3.0 below), I proposed that we bake gingerbread cookies together. We've been baking together since she was wee:


(Note to self: You have 6 months to start baking with Elliana in order to keep the Sibling Fairness Score Card even.)

She was excited. I was excited. What follows is a comparison of how I envisioned this activity, and how it actually developed.

Fantasy: We bake delicious gingerbread men from scratch, thanks to my stellar baking skillz.
Reality: I had picked up a box of gingerbread cookie mix at the store for $1.50 and decided to give it a whirl.

Fantasy: Keira and I work together lovingly and in utter cooperation, having an epic-fun time.
Reality: Keira repeatedly coughs on ingredients, rendering them unusable, and does the exact opposite of every direction I give.

Fantasy: After the cookies have cooled, we snuggle up together for bedtime stories as we snack on the fruits munchies of our labor.
Reality: Keira licks the frosting off her cookie, takes a bite, and declares rudely, "These do NOT taste good, Mommy!" before marching off.


Fantasy: I devour three--no, wait--four cookies, chug a glass of milk, and put our tiny dictator(s) to bed. Keira declares, "I love you SO much, Mommy!" and snuggles up; I finally settle in to watch Tuesday's episode of "The Biggest Loser" until Bear comes home.
Reality: Well, one out of four isn't bad.




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