Last week we tried making some Christmas candy together. I found a recipe for butter mints, but since we had no mint or peppermint extract, we made orange and lemon and maple instead.
I assumed the two older boys would be the ones to jump in an help, but it was actually Anselm that stuck with me through the whole process. He is very keen on helping, that one. If there is work going on, he is usually the first there. This is true for baking as well as home repair an renovation projects. He’s not too keen on cleaning, though.
Wilting spearmint, an almost-finished cup of coffee, a stray apple, and the two-year-old who’s after it. She’s already eaten an apple this morning, so I won’t let her eat another, yet. She’s contented herself, instead, with peeling off the stickers and placing them on herself.
For the last half-hour I have sat in the oversized easy chair and nursed the baby–the baby that now contorts himself every which way instead of lying contentedly against my chest. A friend said recently that nursing a baby boy is like trying to nurse an alligator. I wrangle him, and Elvie brings me apples until I tell her to stop. Then she brings me “abocados” instead.