Right now, the boys are making cupcakes.
Actually, they are doing an experiment with pancake mix, water, Gogurt, and sprinkles. Oh, and this just in: lemon juice and lime juice, both brand new in the refrigerator, each opened by the power of my Grandma's antique nut cracker.
Don't think Christmas figurine with a beard. Think large tweezers to use backwards.
I like to think I keep extra things on hand for such experiments, but the truth is, I think I just buy more than we need, so there are naturally leftovers (or items yet unopened) that lend themselves to 'experiments.'
I've learned to say yes to these experiments, since a dozen eggs cost about a dollar, and if I don't provide the ingredients, they'll go looking for them under the kitchen sink. And their ingredients will have the phone number for poison control written across the bottle.
So, gentlemen, have your fill with the edible ingredients. Right now, since I declined their request to put their creation in the oven, they have instead opted for the freezer. Also an optimal place for science observation. They tell me the goal is pancake ice cubes.
I just overhead debate about mustard, is it a liquid or a solid.
I hear Tyler speaking like a surgeon to his assitant. "Towel. Napkin. Scalpel."
There is only one rule: Clean it up. Usually, they overlook many steps in this process. If I go in there to find yogurt and pancake mix caked on my floor, so help me.
They bound onto the deck, now holding Windex and dish towels. "Mommy, while you're sitting out here doing nothing, we're going to do some work for you. You'll be so proud of us. We're going to start with your bathroom."
And the pendulum swings. But don't let them fool you: it's not really about serving mommy. It's just about moving the science experiments to the bathroom.
While I'm sitting out here doing nothing.