Once upon a time...

Once upon a time there was a thrifty mom who thought, instead of composting or throwing away her over-ripe bananas, it would be a good idea to make banana bread out of them. Since it was a nice day outside, and there was no need for air conditioning, she thought it was a splendid undertaking, and set out, immediately, to, well, undertake it!

As she pulled out ingredients for her yummy treat, her children, being the bloodhounds that they are, discovered what fun their mother was about to have in the kitchen, and decided that they, too must be a part! So their mother, having nothing but warm and loving feelings for her children, and knowing that they were culinary geniuses who never make kitchen messes, welcomed their help without reservation.

And then I woke up.

It is a struggle for me to watch a mess being made. Don't get me wrong - I have no trouble cooking or baking with one child. That's (pun intended) a piece of cake. But when all four help at the same time - I really have to turn my patience on to full. But I take a deep breath and remind myself that we're creating more than banana bread - we're creating memories. Whew. Okay. I can do this!

Look at the pride on Luke's face as he helps teach his sister how to stir! How could I squash that? His pride is much more important to me than a little spilled flour.

Look at Gracie being a "big girl" and getting the bread pan for Mommy! (No, safety police, the oven and stovetop are NOT on. Good grief, give me some credit, would ya?)

I won't tell you how many times the little stirring hands dropped the spoon in the batter, or how many times I fished it out.

I had to find jobs for everyone, of course. Joey mashed bananas and used the butter wrappers to grease the baking pans.

And Adam took the pictures. I think he did a pretty good job. At least as good as I would have done! (No, we don't always bake shirtless.)

Voila! Two ready-to-bake loaves of banana bread. I would love to show you the finished product, but if I had paused to take a picture before slicing, my children would have eaten my arm.