Brittany Cardwell

P/2

12/11/08

Back In The Bowl

  As I slowly walked to the front door of our home, I felt my heart jump in my chest.  My grandparents were never really around much. They never spent the time to share in our family’s good times.  They lived six hours away and rarely made the trip to Springfield, even if they did come down, they never stopped by.

 My “Grandpa Wagner” didn’t really like us much. He neglected to see the importance of family. My “Grandma Lou”, on the other hand, loved to visit us and wished she could come more often. She was a big family person.  She would visit whenever she had the opportunity.  

    Today was our day. My Grandma Lou and I were baking together and nothing in the world could be better. I was two small years old and lived for days like these.

    I quickly opened the door and in less than a moments time I was in my Grandma’s arms. She smiled down at me and I took in the beautiful look of it. She was a small lady.  She was not tall yet not short, with chestnut colored hair and deep brown eyes. Her face was soft and her complexion was nothing but love.  To me, she was perfect. 

    A short time later we had started to bake. We were making Chocolate chip cookies today. I love chocolate chip cookies.  Gramma turned to oven to 375 degrees and then turned to pull out the cookie ingredients. I sat on the counter-top, watching. I was too short to reach most of the ingredients so I decided to just wait.  

She added all the substances to our mixture and carefully measured them out. Finally it was time to stir. This is where I got to help. With a spoon that I could barely grip, I moved my arms in a circular motion over the big, white bowl.  

As I stirred, I longed to taste the luscious, brown dough. Unfortunately I knew better. One of the few rules my Gramma was really strict about, was that we weren’t supposed to eat while we were baking. 

It was tempting, I carefully weighed my options. Suddenly Gramma Lou turned her back and I seized a handful of mocha colored dough. I shoved it into my mouth and my hand flew behind me. As my grandma turned to face the counter once again, she quickly spotted my bulging cheeks. It was with guilty eyes that stared back at her. She quietly gasped “Brittany no!” 

I felt ashamed and I could no longer bear it. With a deep breath, I spit the dough back into the big, white bowl! Gramma Lou shrieked and she covered her mouth with her hands. I guiltily looked up, as my gaze traveled upward I stared straight into a black and grey video camera. My mother, Laurie, had recorded the whole incident! We still have that recording , haunting me about the days I spit the dough back into the bowl.  In the end my grandma shoveled out the dough that I had previously spit into bowl. We baked the dough and everyone enjoyed the wonderful chocolate chip cookies.