I was making pizza dough on the kitchen counter when Mason pulled up a chair. He wanted to help and watched as I mixed the yeast into some warm water with honey. While we waited for the yeast to start belching he asked for some milk. I grabbed a sippy cup and he asked for a big boy cup.
Mike lives in North Florida with his wife, two children, two dogs and a cat missing a piece of her ear named Sadie Mae. He is a 30-something guy trying to balance family, work, gardening, travel and his love of food. When the kids are asleep and the house is quiet he writes two blogs, Black Coffee & Bourbon chronicles the daily circus that is his life, and Sweet Tea & Bourbon which documents his foodie adventures.
I poured the milk and told him to be careful. I kneaded the dough as he intently watched. I let him put some flour on the dough and then he proceeded to knock his milk over onto the dough. I grabbed a towel and tried to mop it up before it ruined the pizza dough.
I was aggravated, told Mason to be more careful and to get down while I finished the dough. He looked at me and said, “Daddy, be nice to me, I’m still learning.” I laughed and gave him a hug.
