The last thing I want to do after spending a day in the kitchen is to go home to work in my own (yes, this is embarssing to admit, but true).  Last week I was baking dinner and suddenly caught a glimpse of my son standing next to me, oven mitts on, and demanding to be held up high enough to see into the oven.  I had no idea he even knew what drawer I kept these in.

As we made dinner together, my little man and I, I wondered about his future career choices.  Most kids play with Playdough.  Mine prefers playing with fondant.   He loves dark chocolate at a time when most children find it too bitter.  Most importantly, he is quite a connoisseur of cake.  I’d venture to say he’s a bit of a cake snob.  He has been known to snub a cake or two at his friend’s birthday parties – the typical supermarket sheetcake variety.  I wonder if he’ll still want to stir the pasta boiling on the stove when he’s 15.  So far, he does a great job of it now at age 3 (always supervised, of course).   I couldn’t help but share the photo I took of him that night. Here’s a pic of my little Cake Man Max, a rare glimpse into my personal life.


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