Baking with my girl.

My boys used to like to help me in the kitchen but I know it was so they could have first dibs on the beater and then they discovered cookie dough. I don't like having little hands reaching into my perfect mixture of butter, sugar, flour, vanilla so I started spooning the dough into little cups and telling them that was all they were getting. It worked and since then they haven't wanted to help me bake. Except the girl . She keeps wanting to help. She wants us to have matching aprons. She wants to put in all the ingredients, roll the cookie dough, cut the dough and now she can transfer the cookie dough from the counter to the cookie sheet. That my friends is an accomplishment. I've been making sugar cookies since I was ten and the moment of truth is always in the transfer. You can mix the ingredients just right, you can flower the surface just right, you can roll the dough just right, you can cut the cookie dough out just right but if you don't transfer the dough just right it's an automatic do over and sad, very sad when you mess up your creation of perfectly formed dough. She did an excellent job and I revelled in my daughter's ability to do something that took me years to master. I love that her childhood will be filled with these memories of baking with her mom. She won't be able to remember not baking cookies with her mom. Baking is what I do and love and it comes easy and I love that I get to share that with her but most of all I love that I get to spend time with her and she wants to be with me.