Fern baking

Cookie Cutter Guilt

by doodaddy on December 3, 2009

Let me just start by admitting: I try to impress 4-year olds.

A couple of weeks ago we hosted one of those kids who makes preschool look like graduate school. She’s well-behaved and articulate — a great little role model for my, um, independent three-year old.

So of course I decided that on our first playdate we’d all bake cookies. That always gets ‘em.

Now, I wasn’t about to send the girls to school with cookies in their pockets. Apart from trying to impress small children, I’m afraid the teachers already think I’m a little lax in the ol’ parental discipline. So I promise our new friend that I’ll keep her cookies absolutely safe and deliver them to a parent at pick-up time.

Except. I don’t.

Oh, I delivered them, for sure. (You thought I’d eaten the kid’s cookies, right? Nah. I’ve sworn off pink food.)

But between one thing and another — a mad rush back to the house for a forgotten show-and-tell item, a baby who’s suddenly kickingly crazed about not being in the baby carrier, a need to quickly dodge a fleet of UPS trucks careening down the street — the cookies are broken. And crumbly. And a bit pathetic, actually.

The worst was the aplomb with which our new friend took everything. What goldarn four-year old girl has goldarn aplomb, for gol’s sake? She was plainly disappointed, but nonetheless accepted the baggie of ruined former-cookies without a word.

This all happened weeks ago, understand, but I’m still haunted by it.  Our first playdate and this kid’s really impressed. Later that very same day, I’ve fallen off my pedestal to join the ranks of “just another flawed grownup.”

I suppose that trajectory — initially impressive, eventually kind of average — shouldn’t surprise me too much — it’s mostly how adults perceive me, too.

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tagged as , in big kids,cooking,failure,faux pas,food ·

{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }

Natasha January 8, 2010 at 11:02 am

I admit to a huge ego boost when my 5-year-old sister’s friend came over and was staring at me. I knew it was because I looked so cool and awesome.

No.

I heard her talking to my sister later that day: “Your older sister kept STARING at me when I got here…it was really scary…she just kept looking at me and wouldn’t look away…”

SHE WAS THE ONE STARING, NOT ME. End of story.

Reply

doodaddy January 27, 2010 at 8:43 pm

Hm. 5-year olds have always seemed uncannily aware of the way things really are. Even though no one believes them.

Ahm.

But no I’m SURE it wasn’t you. Totally, it was the kid.

Milla January 9, 2010 at 5:21 am

Doodaddy, where are you? How was Christmas? I’m starting to be worried. Take care, Milla

Reply

doodaddy January 27, 2010 at 8:44 pm

Oh, you know, the usual — buried under a pile of dirty laundry and still trying to get a decent dinner on the table every night.

Time heals, though!

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