Yesterday Matthew(11) wanted to make some muffins from scratch. He’s shown himself to be pretty competent in the kitchen so I printed him out a recipe and he got started mixing flour and sugar as I ran out the door on a last minute errand. Kait was here to supervise and answer any questions so I felt fine leaving the house for a half hour.
Everything was find. I got no emergency texts saying the house was on fire or anything even though I probably should have because they freaking set the house on fire while I was gone.
Okay, not the house, exactly, but the oven. They set the oven on fire.
Matthew. My precious, bright eyed baby boy.
He mistook 3/4 cup sugar for 3 cups sugar. But this wasn’t the issue. The issue was the 3 tablespoons of baking powder. The recipe called for 3 teaspoons baking powder.
I walked in the door and could smell the distinct odor of burnt cookies. Kait told me that there had been a fire in the oven and somebody, I think it was Ben, commented thankfully we were able to save the muffins.
They started eating the custard-like mess from the bottom of the muffin cups. I guess it wasn’t a total waste.
Lucy(4) was so disappointed about the lack of actual muffins though. This morning while she was peeling an orange she requested out of the blue, Mom, please don’t let Matthew use too much baking powder today when he makes pupcakes again.
It struck me odd that she recalled it being too much baking powder in the muffins that ruined them. That girl has got some kind of memory for sure.
Matthew saw me writing this post and said he was going to go attempt to make muffins again. I will not be running any errands. As a matter of fact, I should probably get off this computer so I can pay closer attention.