Take out some pizza dough, sauce, cheese, and pepperoni, and add a toddler. The recipe creates a sweet mess, but one for the memory books.
I spread out the dough, and Jackson scooped sauce all over his pants. After teaching him to spread the sauce carefully, he got a bit too excited and ripped the dough in many, many places . . . that's okay - we covered the masterpiece with handfuls of mozzarella. Then he attempted to shove the remaining cheese into the kitty's mouth.
Almost all done, we put our finishing touches on the pie. He added pepperoni and took one aside to nibble the corners. He was interested in the taste, until he spooned marinara sauce into his mouth and fell in love. He insisted on cold marinara. When I heated it, he rejected it.
We watched the pizza in the oven. He blew it a few kisses from the outside window. He tried to kiss the oven, but I assured him of a boo boo if he did that, so he just talked to it instead. "Hi pizza!! Hi!!!" Once out, the burnt pizza was awful. But, it was made with love. Isn't that all that really matters?
1 comment:
That's all that really matters indeed......
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