don’t inhale the concoction

Sometimes, The Mama can be a little indulgent.

No comment, The Dada. It’s my blog and I can understate if I want to.

I like to think that letting The Kidling do what she wants every now and then–even when her request is unorthodox–is ¬†good for her creativity. And, fine, I get tired of saying “no” all of the freaking time. So when The Kidling asked for a bowl for her pine needles the other day so she could “make truffle oil,” I complied. No harm done, and I drew the line at wet ingredients.

See!? I set boundaries. So there.

As The Kidling sprinkled and stirred, she requested additional ingredients. I chose spices that met one of two conditions, 1) they were white, or 2) they wouldn’t stain. Salt, cream of tartar, coriander, pepper… Just as I was running out of ingredients that fit my criteria, The Kidling declared her truffle oil complete. I asked how it turned out, and she told me,¬†“It smells marvelous, but it doesn’t feel marvelous if it gets up your nose.”

Remember that the next time you have the cinnamon nearby.