It’s just bizarre. It’s very strange how I enjoy cooking with my two year old granddaughter, when I hated cooking with my own children. I remember I hated bending over the child to work on the counter. I was annoyed that they took so long, didn’t stir good enough, and that they made such a mess. Flour was all over the floor, counter, and cupboards.
Now, however, I think my granddaughter is so damn cute! I still have to bend over her to stir, scrape, shape, pour, etc.. But I have so much more patience, now. Her antics make me laugh. And there’s still flour all over the floor, counter, and cupboards.
I don’t know why or how this has happened. But I know enough to enjoy it. Thanks be to God.