To begin, for the past month, she has wanted to make a maple cookie. For reasons initially unbeknownst to me, I was reluctant to let her get started on the recipe, but she persisted in asking, and today she finally baked the cookie. I was busy teaching piano and walked in only once- in time to see her dropping the very wet dough onto a crowded sheet. Being the hands-off mom that I am ‹cough› and trying very hard not to micromanage her, I said nothing. As you probably surmised, the sheets ended up looking like a bunch of multiplying cells...
