I'd like to say that the cookie above is the result of a delightful afternoon of mommy/son baking ... that we worked together to mix the dough and drizzle the frosting. I'd like that. And, I think Miles would have liked that, too. But, he's not complaining about the way things turned out.
Sandwiched between a couple pressing engagements and getting ready for New Beginnings (big night for the Young Women at church), Miles was planned to take a nap so I could make two dozen blue star cookies for that night. When he woke up after only 45 minutes and I had yet to shower and fully frost my cookies, I knew the day was shot. Mommies out there, you know what I'm talking about.
I figure, it's ok ... we'll work this one out. So, I set Miles up with a cookie and a little bowl of frosting. Problem solved. -not so much- He was mad that he couldn't get in my business and work on my cookies. So, I give him the sprinkles. What's the worst that could happen -- a few hundred sprinkles on his high chair tray? -no big deal- Next thing I know, I look over and half the multi-colored sprinkles are all black and clumped at the top of the shaker (from saliva). So, I figure "why not" and take the lid off the sprinkles and let him have a hay day.
It's always interesting to discover what will ensue when mama gets desperate.
