Baby’s first bake sale

Mom. Mama. Mommmmm”

I look down at my sons as I stir chocolate and butter in the Bain Marie. He points up at the ingredients on the side and grins cheekily. The same grin I am sure is mirrored back on my own face, dimples and all. I know exactly which ingredient he’s pointing at, the opened packet of white chocolate buttons I’ve been sneaking when he’s not looking. Like mother, like son.

“In a little while, baby, we need them to decorate your cake”.

It’s his first bake sale at nursery. The first time he’s been big enough to bake together. It feels like there aren’t a lot of firsts left for us and I’m fighting for every one, making a big deal about every one. In fact I’ve taken the afternoon off work for this one. My boy is growing up. Soon it’ll be his first day of school and his first day of high school, his first date, his first flat. I’m getting ahead of myself but I need these firsts.

I’ve been prepared and all of his ingredients are ready. I pop a plastic bowl and a silicone mixing spoon on the floor. I pop Tupperware tubs of measured out flour, sugar, raising agents and a pinch of salt down.

“Your turn, kiddo. Can you help Mommy put them all into the big bowl?”. I sit back and watch my toddler tip them in one by one, as flour erupts over my surfaces like smoke from an erupting volcano. I watch him squint as he tries to protect his eyes. When the dust has settled he holds out his hand for the big spoon.

“There!” He exclaims. He’s not mastered everything yet but I’ll hand it to him he knows what he wants. I hand him the spoon and he mixes, more mixture on the floor than in the bowl I’m sure and then I ask for the spoon back. I quickly whisk eggs into the now cool chocolate mixture and return to the floor with the wet bowl.

I pour a little of the dry mix into the wet bowl and give my son the spoon back to mix, and repeat this over and over again until it’s all mixed in. Then I grab the big silicone cake case I’ve put on a baking tray and I ask him to help me lift the bowl. He helps me put this mixture in the case and then I pop it in the oven, set a timer and put him in his highchair with the mixing bowl and spoon. This is the best bit. Licking the bowl. Before long he’s covered in chocolate cake mix and wide eyed and happy.

We busy ourselves with boring jobs for a while until the cake is ready, let’s let it cool I say, and we go into the living room for a snack and to watch some well earned television and when the cake is cool I take him back in to decorate it. He has buttercream and piping icing and all manner of different bite size chocolates.

“Go nuts” I say in guidance to the decoration. And whilst he decorates the cake, sneaking chocolate buttons when he thinks I’m not watching, I wash up. When he’s done I admire his masterpiece and praise him!

“Well done on your first cake! Yay!”

Later on after dinner we all go to bed, the cake on the side covered in cling film ready for the next morning.

******

I wake up and it’s quiet. Too quiet. I check the clock and it’s 7am. Where’s the baby? He never sleeps in this late? I plod downstairs calling for him. I hear scuffling footsteps in the direction of the kitchen. In the middle of the floor sits a very chocolatey child, covered in crumbs with a plastic plate full of remnants. Well... a trip to Morrison’s before nursery it is.