Cooking with Caleb

I have to say, I have never cooked with Caleb.  I have tried.  But the kid just has never been interested.  Which has always been okay because, well, frankly, the thought scared me to death.  Remember, this is our first kid with discombobulation.  Hot surfaces?  Fluffy flour?  Precise measurements?  Oh my.

But for a badge in Cub Scouts, he had to plan a day's worth of meals for the family.  PBJ and spaghetti here we come.

Okay, so he did want to do the PBJ and we vetoed that, but we did agree to spaghetti.  And here is how it went.

[Me in the background saying: Now smile, but watch your arm, it would totally stink to burn yourself for a cute photo...]

[Me: Dude, what happened to your hair?  Wait, don't answer that.  Watch your arm!]

(anyone catch the giant box of Goldfish in the background next to the bottle of premium vokda?  Yes, you are in the Snyder house.)

Learning how to use a manual can opener, something I didn't know how to do until, oh college.  No, I am not kidding.

 

Eli decided he had to get in on the action.  And donned his own dress, I mean, apron.

Caleb: Seriously, this is how the garlic bread starts?  This stuff is naaasty.

 

And boom, just like that, focus lost.  And I completed the meal.

 

Somehow I don't see "Chef" coming up on his future aptitude tests.