Yesterday morning, Pie comes bounding into the bedroom as I’m getting up.
Pie: Do we have blueberries?
Me: Why, yes, I believe we got pack from Boston Organics last week.
Pie: May I make blueberry muffins?
Me: That sounds like a great idea. Go flip through one of your kid cookbooks and find a recipe. Also check my whole grains cookbook.
A few minutes later she comes back.
Pie: Your whole grains cookbook didn’t have one, but my kid’s cookbook does. Can I make it?
I look at the recipe.
Me: It’s got a lot of butter but, well, sure. Go for it!
About 15 minutes later, we’re in the kitchen. I look at the recipe.
Me: Okay the first thing you need to do is get the butter from the fridge and melt it on the stove.
Pie: Can you do that?
Me: No, you’re the baker.
Pie: But I’m only nine. I can’t use the oven or stove.
Me: You are already nine, which is a fine time to learn properly and safely to use the oven and stove.
Pie: I think nine is too young.
Adam: And it always comes back to your poor, difficult childhood.
Me: You [to Adam], shut up. You [to Pie], get the butter.
Pie: You do it! I’m not going to use the oven or the stove! Can’t you do it for me?
Me: No. I don’t even like blueberry muffins. I’m not making them. If you want blueberry muffins, you will learn to use the oven and stove. I will be by your side helping you, but you will do it.
Pie: BUT IF I USE THE OVEN I WILL BURN MYSELF AND DIE!!!
Needless to say (though I’ll do so anyway), there were no blueberry muffins yesterday.