mommy's helper

me: asher, what are you doing?
asher: gonna eat it, mama.
me: no, you're not. it's frozen.
asher: why not, mama?
me: because we have to cook it first.
asher: why not, mama?
me: because i said so, boy! now quit it with that back talking!

i'm just kidding about that last part. actually, instead of arguing with him, i just stuck the frozen dinner rolls that he was trying to prematurely consume into the oven.

asher likes to help me cook. excuse me. i meant he likes to "help" me cook. he drags a kitchen chair over to the counter and gets to work. tonight he tried to eat frozen dinner rolls. he also thought that a necessary step in the cooking process was pouring cajun seasoning into the coffee filters. and on the counter. and in the boiling rice. and anywhere else that looked like it could use a little spice. (i like to spit some rhymes occasionally. don't be jealous. it just comes naturally. get it? rice and spice-they rhyme. ok. i'm done with that.)

most of the time asher's "help" becomes more of a hindrance. HOWEVER, it's fun to let him try. i'll admit, sometimes i get frustrated, but i like to let him try as much as i can. i just can't help but think that one day he won't want to be hanging out with mama in the kitchen. one day, i'll be by myself cooking up about 468 grilled cheeses for him and his voracious, prepubescent friends while they kill zombies on their video games.

and then what's to become of poor, lonely, cooking-by-herself mama? who will take on the serious duty of cajunly seasoning her coffee filters? no one. that's who. so, for now, asher can "help" all he wants.