baking with my boy.

Noah loves to bake with me. He really fills the shoes for not having a little girl in this household. This morning he wanted to bake muffins. We had blueberries but were lacking most of the other vital ingredients... and I only had one egg left. But his eyes were big and hopeful and a swift search of the internet showed  that I had most of the ingredients for a recipe and the rest... we were going to wing it. It was 7 am and we baked in our jammies. It was a sweet morning for us and so much fun. Since I didn't expect our muffins to be perfect, it was easy to let go and not care when he missed the bowl entirely pouring in the ingredients. After we were done, he retreated to cartoons and me to my coffee.

 I secretly took a bite of one of the warm muffins when they were cooling, choked on the chalky center and then quietly disposed of them. I  searched the fridge and added blueberry greek yogurt to the mix. The next batch, by the grace of God, turned out perfect, like blueberry cobbler muffins. Yum. 

"What is taking our muffins so long to bake?" I heard mumbled over Curious George several times. But he loved his muffins when they were done. And I would have loved this morning with my boy even if all the muffins were all tossed in the end.

But chalk muffins are what would have been served if you stopped by at 7 am this morning. 

So moral of the story, 

don't come by before 8.

Do you know the muffin man? (He is kind of a violent baker)