Decorating biscuits (and eating most of said biscuits) just before Christmas was something The Child most enjoyed. The OCD part of me was not very thrilled with the lack of symmetry in her style of decoration.
Never mind. I thought I might get her involved in baking biscuits to decorate*. I have baked a few times in the last two years, but it isn’t exactly something I do for fun. She was up for it, until it actually came time to mix the ingredients. But she was completely enthusiastic about cutting out the shapes with her star- and teddy-shaped cookie cutters.
Me: It’s not play dough. It’s real dough. We’ll have to roll it out again.
(One minute passes.)
Me: I told you, it’s real dough. We need to roll it out again.
Then she lost interest after the biscuits went into the oven. After they came out of the oven, however…
The Child: I want a biscuit. I want a biscuit.
* The dastardly plan is to slowly get her involved in preparing food with me, so she doesn’t behave as though my asking her to try new foods is a suggestion to cut off her ear.