A story from whitney
I love cooking and baking. My kitchen is one of my happy places. I love sharing that bond with Sarge.
This started out of sheer desperation. I was trying to cook thanksgiving dinner and Sarge was following me around the kitchen signing “up” and crying. I was running around like crazy, and everything Johnny tried to distract Sarge with worked for 2 minutes or less. So, I pulled out my biggest bowl (someday I dream of metal bowls, so I don’t have to worry about him breaking it on the floor), dumped the ingredients for pumpkin pie filling into it and handed him a spoon. He stood on that chair mixing (and tasting) that filling for an hour. Chattering away at mom and dad as we worked around him in the kitchen, occasionally moving things out of his reach before he could add them to the bowl.
Since that day we have made cookies, brownies, waffles, and I’ve even let him whisk the eggs for scrambled eggs. On days when I’m cooking on the stove or cooking something more delicate, I put snacks or the scraps from my cooking into the bowl.
Now that he’s interested in scooping and pouring I even occasionally give him multiple bowls and a cup of water to mix into his scraps.
Some days the clean up is too much effort for me and I put off cooking until he is asleep or outside with dad, but the days that I’m up for it are worth it. He’s gaining confidence in the kitchen and I’m gaining peace and quiet.