CONFESSIONS OF A FATHER

I have to get something off my chest. My son has absolutely no idea of how to throw a football, hit a baseball, or shoot a basketball. In fact, I'm not sure he's ever even touched a football or a baseball. What's worse, I'm more than a little bit proud of that. And today I witnessed something that made my heart swell with pride. And now you can witness it too. This is my first born son looking through epicurious.com for a chocolate cake recipe. When he found the one he wanted he ran over to me and said, "Look at this beautiful cake. Doesn't that look sooooo good? It says I have to mix coloring paint with cooking lotion."
THAT'S MY BOY!


After we prepared and devoured the cake we made a mixed berry streusel with ginger and orange peel as a surprise for mom when she wakes up. And you know what? He loves wearing his apron "just like dad."

Now, in my defense, my son LOVES tools and always helps me when something needs fixing. He's already better at football (the real football that you play with your feet. read: soccer) than I was in 8th grade. And he loves practicing his "Ninja skills." (you should see his ninja sign. it's really cool and he came up with it himself) So I'm not too concerned about his "manliness" quotient. The throwing stars have me a little worried though.