Featured Short Story

All the students in the room wore full aprons to protect their clothing. They needed to because they were a group of wiggly 2 and 3-year-olds in a cooking class. My daughter scheduled the class at the local community center for my granddaughter and me when she knew I was coming to help her during the arrival of their second child.

“You’ll love it, mom,” she said. “You and Clare can have some fun together and make cookies.”

Eight little squirming bodies stood on chairs around two long tables with seven moms and a couple of grandmothers holding onto them as though they were wild horses waiting to take off for a race.

I was a little excited, but the grandmother next to us didn’t look too excited. The teacher started the class by announcing to the children they were going to make ginger cookies.

Their cooking tools–which consisted of a small bowl, a measuring cup, a little measuring spoon, and a long wooden spoon for stirring–were placed in front of them. After the teacher dropped a ball of shortening in their bowls, she explained how white and sticky it was, and told the kids not to touch it–which tra...