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Little Big Boy

I have this cookbook that I picked up in Montana on my cousin’s suggestion. Has that thing ever earned its place on my book shelf! I’ve had more successful meals from that book than any other in my possession. However, the last couple were kind of lackluster and last night’s recipe just wasn’t sounding that great to me. Granted I’ll be making it tonight so I may have to eat those words (no pun intended), but yesterday I just wasn’t in the mood for polenta and greens. Instead, I made pancakes, veggie bacon and eggs. Bring on the fat and carbs! WHOO!

When I got home from the grocery store (we needed some corn/maple syrup), my little man ran into the kitchen like he always does yelling with his arms held out and a big smile on his face, “Mommy! Mommy’s home!”  You’d think I’d become immune or used to this greeting but it’s a guaranteed mood brightener. Not that I needed one last night, not with pancakes coming. I swooped him up relishing in the feel of him snuggling into my chest as I hug him close and said hello. I put him down and went to say hello to the rest of family, who are usually there with Jonas and found my husband and daughter playing Disney Universe together. Jaden flashed me a bright smile and “Hi, mommy!” and Matt threw me a, “Hey, babe.”

Back to the kitchen I went and started gathering the flour, sugar, eggs, and other things needed. Jonas followed me like a puppy (speaking of puppies, Daisy’s usually the first one to greet me at the door and after a firm, “Down!” from me, I say hello to her, too.) and started talking non-stop about his day but paused long enough to ask me, “Mommy, what we having for dinner?”

“Pancakes, bacon and eggs!”

“YAY!!!” he clapped and jumped up and down, “I WUV pancakes, bacon, and eggs!”

He ran off to tell his sister the good news and I started making the pancake batter. He came in a short time later jumping and clapping his hands over his head.

“What are you doing?” I ask and before he can answer I figure it out, “Are you doing jumping jacks?”

“Yeah!” he says, still jumping and clapping, “Annabelle did jumping jacks with me today!”

“Well, you’re doing a great job, buddy,” I turn back to the counter and Jonas is soon right next to me asking to help make dinner. I give him the job of very carefully mixing the dry ingredients together and adding the baking powder and salt, saying “stir very gently” to make sure he doesn’t go crazy and send the flour flying. After I add the wet ingredients I take over and start virgorously stirring and get admonished:

“Mommy! You have to be bery careful,” he says in a gentle tone, “Be bery gentle.”

I comply and then ask him to set the table while I cook up the pancakes.

“There are clean plates in the dishwasher,” I tell him, “Just put four of them on the table.” He does just that and then puts a fork next to each plate.  As I’m flipping the veggie bacon and monitoring the pancakes I hear some clattering and turn around to see Jonas playing with some knives.

“Oh, nonono, honey,” I take the knives away, “Don’t touch the knives, ok? They’re very sharp.”

“Ok, mommy,” he says, and grabs another knife.

“No, Jonas, I just said, don’t touch the knives.”

“Oh, sorry, mommy.”

After scanning the clean silverware and removing the remaining sharp knives, I go back to cooking.  Next to me, the silverware drawer opens and a little hands comes into my peripheral holding a spoon. I look at Jonas and he’s putting the silverware away.

“Buddy, are you putting the silverware away?” I ask.


“Well, thank you, sweetie!”

After the silverware is put away (he stopped once to very carefully hand me a butter knife and ask me to put it away for him), he puts the clean pots away, hugs my legs and says, “I wuv you, mommy.”

“I wuv you, too, Jojo,” I smile and hug him back, “Thank you for putting the dishes away. That was very nice of you.”

“You’re welcome, mommy!” And he goes back to doing his jumping jacks.


This morning I asked both of the kids to go put their shoes on, assuming Jonas would bring me his shoes and ask me to put them on, like usual. Instead, he comes to my bedroom with his shoes on.

“Dude!” I exclaim, “Did you put your shoes on? All by yourself?”

“Yeah!” he beams and stomps his feet to make his shoes light up.

“Dude!” I kneel down and hug him, “You even got them on the right feet. I didn’t know you could do that! Good job!”

He runs back to the garage door to finish getting his gear on. Soon I hear the kids arguing about something. No yelling, just discussing something. I’m in Jonas’ room turning off his nightlights and hear:

“Don’t call me Jojo, I don’t wike that.”

“You don’t like Jojo?”

“No, my name is Jonas Matthew Bingmar.”

Then I step in, “Jonas, I’ve been calling you Jojo since you were a baby and I’m not going to stop anytime soon. Sorry, buddy.”

Jaden says she likes to call him Jojo. I walk into the kitchen to find Jaden sitting on the floor tying her shoes and Jonas kneeling beside her with his arms around her telling her she can call him Jojo if she wants to and he’s sorry he made her sad. Jaden smiles and kisses her brother and I try not to cry.

Damn. I couldn’t ask for anything more, could I?

One Response

  1. almost 8 years old and Ty is still letting me call him “Bubby”…but i remember the day that Amaya didn’t want us to call her “Sissy” anymore…that was a sad sad day.

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