Little hands at work

This morning I asked Owen what he would like to make on our baking day and he said, "I luff pay-doe!" What momma could possibly resist that degree of cute? Not me. So to the kitchen I went to dig out our play dough ingredients with one small boy galloping with great excitement behind me. I love that kid. Why can't everyone be so easy to please?

Water, salt, oil. Heat. Add flour. And mix.

He is so proud about how involved he can be in this process and it is nothing but a pleasure to watch him wield his great mixing spoon with such precision. And by that I mean, look how much appears to be staying in the bowl. Incredible.

He has now nearly taken over my favorite part of the play dough making experience. The kneading. I love sinking my hands into that warm dough and imagining all the fun to come when you plop that finished mass down in front of your shortest playmate.

Owen did quite a bit of imagining too as he kneaded his play dough. He rolled it out for a little while and then decided we needed to have a birthday party.

We sat around the table for a bit and imagined what kind of birthday party it would be, who would be coming and what we would be eating. We would be eating cake, of course (which is what I had originally had in mind to be eating right then except that we made play dough instead). So Owen decided on a party for his dog friend whose name is NoodleEatingPoodle (from Dr. Seuss, naturally) and his friend, Cow, who brought him a birthday crown to wear on his very special day.

Oh how I love those little hands (and mind) at work.