Breaking in the New Nickname

Flash volunteered to take a snack to his gifted program tomorrow for their Christmas Party.  When asked what he wanted to bring, he suggested his favorite cookies.  I said, "what a great idea!!  I'll get the ingredients and you can bake them!"  And so I did my part.

And now he's doing his.  I promised to sit within earshot and help him through the recipe.  (I don't do the recipe like it says so I promised to help him through it the way I do it.)  I asked how many cookies do we need and he replied with a resounding "34!"  A remarkably precise number for something as vague as baking cookies, but it's good to have a goal.  Here's how it's going:

Step 1:  I tell him to mix the sugar, brown sugar and butter together in the Kitchenaide.   Several minutes go by before he says, "Now I mix it?"  I say, "you have the sugar, brown sugar and butter in?"  And he says, "What sugar?"  And then realizes he's not reading the right recipe.  Mom commences banging her head on the coffee table.   (Flash takes the brown sugar out, remeasures, adds white sugar and mixes.)

Step 2:  I tell him to crack the eggs in a separate bowl.  He says, "How many eggs?"  I say, "Read the recipe.  The right recipe."  He doesn't laugh.  Mom makes a mental note:  Flash needs help on his sense of humor.

Step 3:  Add vanilla.  Not normally an ingredient I really measure, but since we're using the Mexican vanilla that's pretty potent, I remind him to measure.  We have a review session of TBS vs. tsp.  Let me just say, we've gone over all of this many many times since he was about 5.  Thought we'd have it by now.

Step 4: Add all of the dry ingredients except the flour and the oats.  Again, thought this wouldn't be nearly as complicated as it seems to be.  Might be several minutes before this step is complete.  (We did have a verification process that he used baking soda and not powder.)

Step 5: He asks if he should measure the 'sugar' or just do a dash in his hand.  I say, "the salt?!"  He says, "oh yeah, the salt I mean."  I suggest measuring for fear of his dash.  He comes to me with his hand held out to have his dash approved.

Step 6:  We have a discussion about the two different bags of flour in the cabinet, bread flour and all-purpose and stress the importance of using the latter.  (Editor's Note:  He's measuring everything with the 1/4 cup.  We could be here all night.)

Step 7:  Realize I didn't get more oats and we only have 2/3 of what we need.  Start fudging the recipe.  (Flash just loves it when I do this.  NOT.)

Step 8:  Add the chips.  Pray.

Step 9:  Talk Flash down from greasing the cookie sheets.

Step 10:  Flash brings the mixer beaters to me to sample the dough (what?  I didn't even ask!) and something isn't right.  "Did you put in both of the sugars?"  Flash says, "Yep.  1/3 of a cup of each."  I know immediately that isn't right.  I show him the recipe.  "3/4 of a cup of both"  He says, "WHAT?"  I look at the recipe right next to it (the one he initially confused) and it doesn't even say 1/3 of a cup of sugar.  I have no clue where he got that number from. We guesstimate a solution.  He goes back to the kitchen.

Step 11:  Head banging on coffee table continues.

Step 12:  Flash's Mom says a silent prayer of gratitude that she isn't eating these cookies and hopes the kids at the gifted class don't notice.  She whispers up a prayer that Flash's grade will in no way be affected by this clear lack of gifted-ness.

Step 13:  A second taste test of dough.  Definitely more sugar, but the blending is not going well since the sugar was added so late.  Nothing to do now but pray.

Step 14:  Flash puts dough on cookie sheet by the spoonful.

Step 15:  One cookie sheet goes into the oven.  Since no timer was set, I'll note the time.  6:55pm.  (Is it just me or is it painful to sit and allow your child to do something wrong (oh say, like not set a timer) when you know the results will not be good?)  

Step 16:  Cookie Sheet #2 goes into the oven.  Time at the tone?  6:58.  Still no timer set.  Flash collects his latest book and settles in at the table with some chocolate chips.  This could get very interesting indeed.

Step 17:  As the clock draws near to the 7-9 minutes suggested baking time, Flash's Mom starts to panic but keeps her mouth shut.  She reminds herself that she's been trying to teach following directions for a long time.

Step 18:  Flash opens oven door.  Says, "ahh, fudge."  Shuts the door.  Flash's mom can only assume he's just now realized he never set a timer.   Or perhaps he just placed the cookies too close together on the cookie sheet.

Step 19:  A full 10 minutes into baking, Flash is still sitting at the table munching on chocolate chips unconcerned about his product.

Step 20:  12 minutes into baking, 2 minutes past the "for crunchy cookies" recommended time, Flash is still sitting at the table, reading and munching, laughing at some great quip in his book.  Mom is having a difficult time letting him learn from experience, but keeps her yap shut.

Step 21:  13 minutes pass.  14.  15.  Mom starts to wonder if the smoke alarm will alarm the neighbors.  The second pan would be still be salvageable at this point.  16.  More laughter from the kitchen.  

Step 22:  Flash actually picks up the recipe and seems to look at how long they should bake.  Oven is opened.  Pot holders are located.  Nothing is extracted from the oven.  

Step 23: 17 minutes have passed.  18.  Dog needs to go out but I'm not budging.  19.  It's all Mom can do to stay on the couch and not run into the kitchen to look at these cookies.  20.  More laughter from the kitchen.  J.K. Rowling was a single mom.  Was she writing these funny lines while her child(ren) were burning cookies?!   21 minutes have passed.  Mom is no longer worried about whether additional flour will make up for the shortcomings of oats.  She now wonders if she should have put new baking sheets on her Christmas list.

Step 24:  22 minutes.  Flash hasn't checked the oven in more than 5 minutes.  23 minutes.  Flash opens the oven door.  Takes a gander inside.  One cookie sheet is extracted.  The second cookie sheet is returned to the oven.  Mom wonders if he has the oven set on the right temperature.  23 minutes at 375 should have burnt those buggers up.

Step 25:  He's removing cookies from the first sheet and placing them on a plate.  Flash puts new dough on the now empty first cookie sheet.  The second sheet has now been in the oven 23 minutes.

Step 26:  First sheet is put back in the oven with fresh dough (7:22)  Second sheet is examined and finally extracted from the oven.  Flash brings me the second cookie sheet, "Are they supposed to be this dark?"  I look at a sheet of burnt cookies and say, "No."  He looks at me with wonder.  I say, "How long are they supposed to bake?"  He says, "10-9 minutes."  I say, "How long have they been in there?  He says, "10-9 minutes."  (I cannot make this stuff up.)  He sets a timer on the microwave and then proceeds to chisel the cookies off the pan.  

Step 27:  Flash sits back down at the table to read.  (Editor's Second Note:  The house now smells like burnt cookies. Perhaps the best diet plan around.)  

Step 28:  Pan has been in the oven 7 minutes now.  No timer has gone off.  8 minutes.  9.  10.  Still no timer.  Mom vows to speak up after this pan is removed from the oven.  Apparently experience alone isn't enough to teach this boy.  At 11 minutes, the timer goes off.  Flash gets up, gets a pot holder, opens the oven and examines the cookies.  He puts them back in the oven and resets the timer.  12 minutes.  Timer goes off.  Flash opens the oven, re-examines the cookies and takes them out.  "Can I just put the rest of the dough in the fridge and bake it later?" He asks.  "I'm not running the oven all night, Flash, we're baking them all now.  Why?"  "Cause there's like a ton of dough left to bake."  He already wants to be done.  "How many cookies does the recipe say it will make?"  "four dozen" he replies (aha!  he can read a recipe!)

Step 29:  "Mom?  Can we start the movie?"  Seriously, the boy who baked a pan of cookies for 23 minutes and told me it had been 10 now wants to put in a movie?!?!?  I might scream.  At least so far the cookies don't seem affected by the substitution of flour for some oats.  They clearly have bigger battles to fight.  

Step 30:  Flash declares this last pan to be the "last of the coherent batter."  I'm not sure at all what that means, but I've learned enough tonight to know not to even ask.  A timer is set.  I ask to sample a cookie.  "Crispy or not crispy?" he asks.  I request a non-crispy cookie.  The cookie is actually quite good.  And I am impressed with 23 minutes of baking that it survived so well.  He double checks the oven temperature for me.  Maybe these are the cookies that just came out after 12 minutes.  Verification is received that my cookie just came from the 12 minute pan.  Flash samples some of the "crispy cookies" after I suggest he cannot take burnt cookies to class.  No verdict is returned.  There are 33 good cookies and in response to how many burnt ones, I got "a lot" as the reply.

Step 31:  Discuss the reasons for the burnt cookies.  Still no comprehension that he actually cooked them too long.  I point out the reality of the situation.  Flash listens then goes back to reading his book.  I WANT TO SCREAM.  But I just sit on the couch.

Step 32:  Prayer of gratitude is said silently again that in 5 days Flash will be going to the other side of the family and I will have another short reprieve from parenting a pre-teen.