We've Discovered a Superpower

Charlie is an enthusiastic cook. Every time I walk into (or near) the kitchen he runs after me, chanting, "I help, Mama? I help, Mama?"

And he does help. He gets the colander out and puts it in the sink, he puts silverware on the table, he returns the milk to the fridge. He loves to stir the contents of a pot, and his absolute favourite kitchen task is whisking an egg. The eggs we get from farmer Kevin are a bit more diverse than the ones you buy at the store--some are big, some are tiny, and some are bumpy in a way that makes me awfully glad I'm not a chicken. When I'm busy and Charlie is dying to help, I often give him a bowl, a whisk, and one of the smallest (or strangest) eggs and let him go to town at the counter of his play kitchen.

Recently I went to clean up after an eggy adventure and noticed that not only was the egg pretty well whisked, there wasn't a bit of shell in the bowl. The next time I gave Charlie an egg I watched him closely. He cracked it one-handed on the edge of the bowl with the casual insouciance of The Naked Chef, tossing the neatly broken shell to the side as he threw his whole being into the whisking.

He didn't learn it from me, because I can't do that. Not the one-handed part, anyway. Yesterday he made cupcakes with a babysitter, and she said that he directed her in every step of the process. The kid better be careful--at this rate he'll be taking over family dinners by the time he's five.