When our DD – our darling daughter — was a tot my mom and sister came to live with us for a few weeks after my father died. Their intent? To explore relocation options to live closer to us. It was a raucous time on a lot of levels, and our DD enjoyed extended play time with her ever-ready grandma (she called her “Nanny”).
Mom and Lisa arrived just before Mother’s Day that year and it felt like playtime 24/7 for little DD. Unlike me…the ever-focused-let’s-stay-on-schedule mom, her Nanny wanted to break all the rules. Nothing was off limits – most especially treats. For Nanny, every day was a reason to celebrate and she and DD baked their butts off, focusing on brownies, cookies, cakes. All the temptresses.
To celebrate Mother’s Day (and “Nanny’s Day”) they conspired to craft a brunch menu that was exclusively sweets. DD’s task? Frost the brownies. Nanny wasn’t much of a scratch baker, and I don’t know that she ever made frosting again – especially after she realized you could purchase a tub’s worth. Thank you, Betty Crocker.
In the pic I’m sharing below our DD was left to her own devices when Nanny gave her cooled brownies to frost. Here’s the tub and the rub…about the brownies. No tools – no spoon, no spatula, no butter knife – nada – were offered. I turned my back for a few minutes (I did that a lot because the mess drove me mad) and when I popped back into the kitchen from the garage, I found the fudge-faced DD immortalized in this photo:
DD’s left hand was wrist-deep in the tub of chocolatey goo as she tried to “frost” the crusty brownies. I could see that she’d been ‘sampling’…ample sampling…with her fingers. Once or twice I could see she tried to shove a brownie clod INTO the tub to see if she could ‘frost’ them by submerging chunks (similar, she shared later, to the technique we used to dye Easter eggs: “I was trying to dunk them, mama”.). Umm…that was a no-go…but rather than get rattled that day, I just sat down and joined her…and my crazy baker of a mother.
By the time we were done, there weren’t many presentable brownies left. They’d been mauled but doggone it, they still tasted pretty awesome. We had chocolate up our noses, crusted into our fingers and up our arms and it’s a Mother’s Day moment I’ll remember forever. Rather than get twisted and wound up by the mess amidst another of my mom’s mayhem moments, I let it go. We had belly aches afterward, sure. But the memory? All magic. Mother’s Day Magic.
Today we celebrate Mother’s Day here in the U.S. From me to you…Happy Mother’s Day to the mamas…and all of the wonderful people who exemplify the traits of loving kindness. If you have a moment, my post on Heart of the Matter for Mother’s Day is a tribute to my mom’s strength…despite her pain.
Top photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com
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