The boys have been so eager to help us cook lately that I figured, what the hell, why not make cookies?  We’ll be seeing Ashlyn and “little” Katie tomorrow, so the cookies were kind of obligatory anyway.  We had the bright idea of letting the boys help, just after we finished dinner.  Not the most brilliant thought we’ve ever had.

We started with mixing the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt.  This went fairly well.  The boys held the spoons while I poured the ingredients in, and then gleefully plunged them into the bowl.  Then they started stirring, and fighting over the right to stir, and scooping up with the spoons, and refusing to use the whisk, and screaming if we tried to take the orange spoons.  Katie had to vacuum Dexter’s chair off twice.  Then Nic picked up the whole bowl and tipped it over.  <sigh> 

At this point we cut them off, moved the ingredients further away, and let them supervise.  We mixed the eggs, sugar, brown sugar, and butter in the mixer, and Nicholas squealed with delight when the mixer came on.  Then we slowly mixed in the flour, and the world seemed good again.  The oatmeal went in easily. 

Then whoops, I spilled half of the butterscotch chips out on the countertop…  Silly me – how clumsy.  Fortunately the boys were more than willing to help me put them in the bowl.  Well, Nicholas was.  Dexter *seemed* eager, but then I noticed that only about half of the chips that landed near Dexter were ending up in the bowl.  Good for him. 

I pleaded with Katie to let the boys have some dough, but she had to go all responsible-parent on me and decide that the risk of salmonella outweighed the overwhelming urgency of feeding boys raw cookie dough.  Phooey.  I got the cookies into the oven in time, though, so the boys could each have one before going to bed.  Dexter initially didn’t realize what he was missing, and tried to give the cookie back.  I think I saw Katie eat his half when he ran off…  For shame…

But he came back a few minutes later, and I set a piece on the counter, and he stuck it in his mouth almost without looking.  And then he very pointedly insisted on having his full share. I got him another, to make up for his mother’s abuse.  Nicholas moved a chair over and climbed up, just in time to *help* Dex finish his last few pieces.

We survived.  It was too manic to manage any photos or video clips, though.  Maybe next time, when Mommy’s away, and the boys are wearing smocks, and I’ve spread out a tarp, and I can give them the raw dough – maybe then it’ll work out a little better.