OK. I know.
I’m reaching here. But I spent
most of yesterday working at the computer, so not much happened in my world. I did almost finish the all-new, “never
before seen because I just created it” Advertising Trivia Challenge for our
Super Bowl Commercial Party Sunday night.
If you have nowhere else to be around 5:30 or so Sunday evening come on
by. We’ll be watching the commercials
(and the game) and you can pick up your very own copy and see how you do.
So back
to the turnovers, Cailyn was here for breakfast. Her Mom left for work and her Dad wasn’t off
shift yet. She decided she didn’t want
to partake of our typical morning fare of … drumroll here … frozen waffles tossed
into the toaster. How she could forego
such elegant fine dining I’ll just never understand. Instead she pulled the ultimate girl card on
me. She wanted to cook breakfast. Now understand here, there are some things I
can cook. The aforementioned waffle, for
example. Toast works. As do those pizza rolls by Totino’s. Well, maybe not for breakfast, but I have
just about exhausted my repertoire once we get beyond toast and waffles. The toaster is my best friend when it comes
to kitchens in the morning.
So she
made her way into the fridge and after a bit of rummaging, found some of those
apple turnovers that you put together and bake.
I supposed she could sense the fear welling up within me. Of course, the fact that I freely confessed
my total inability to operate basic kitchen gadgets like an oven might have
given her a clue. She assured me, “It’s
OK, DadDad. I got this. I know what I’m doing.” Well, OK, then.
While I
frantically read the directions and fumbled through to find the correct pan,
Cailyn had everything else ready to go.
She crawled up to her favored spot on the counter and began her
tutorial. First you have to peel the
paper off of the tube that contains the dough.
Thankfully she took care of that, with her girl fingernails and
all. But just as I started to relax and
rest assured that she would actually do all of this, she handed me the
now-naked tube and said, “Open it.” Now,
I have watched Chris do this sort of thing before, and I have in fact assisted
in similar endeavors, so I was confident that I could handle this one. I took the tube from her and immediately did
what any other helpful-in-the-kitchen guy would do. I smacked it against my head. Nothing.
So I did it again. And
again. Nothing. Cailyn recovered from her initial shock and
began to enjoy my ineptitude. Finally, I
suppose she tired of laughing at me. I
was instructed (quite patiently, I might add) to strike the tube against the
counter. After all, “that’s how Nana
(She paused for effect here) AND Mommy do it.”
Well, who am I to go against the acknowledged masters? From that point on I followed her directions
to the letter. The only other point of
confusion I experienced was when she kept referring to the edibles as “tarts”
rather than “turnovers.” Apparently it’s
all about the way you fold over the crust stuff.
Well,
the end result of whatever the proper name of those things we made must have
been good. Cailyn ate three of them
herself. She’s a growing girl.
Matthew
6:9-13 says, “This, then, is how you
should pray: ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come,
your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver
us from the evil one.’”
Father,
thank you for tarts and turnovers. Or
how did you put it? Oh, yeah, “our daily
bread.” Amen.
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