The scene my husband comes home to on Valentines day:
There is flour, sugar, sprinkles, icing, and clumps of dough in various consistencies all over the kitchen table, and quite a bit on the floor.
Bags of sugar, flour, all kinds of cookie ingredients, and a ridiculously huge quantity of cookie cutters are piled on the kitchen table.
The oven is off but cookies are still in there. There is a big bowl half full of uncooked dough on the counter and cookie trays scattered on top of the stove half full of cookies.
There are two little boys sitting at the kitchen table, one studiously decorating a plate full of cookies, the other (mine) eating a plate full of not quite decorated cookies.
Me and Penny, on the couch, mid-milk meal.
When the baby says it's meal time, it's meal time.
At least I turned the oven off.
And we made a peace offering: poorly decorated, half-mixed, somewhat baked sugar cookies!
Happy Valentines Day, Daddy.
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