Stop and Smell the Flowers

If you see this book in your local bookstore, and your preteen begs you to buy it, run.  It contains page after page of diabolically cute cupcakes that are bigger time sucks than golf and glass blowing combined.  Sophie had systematically gone through the book and written up a list of ingredients that we would need for all the cupcakes she wanted to make.  I made the mistake of attempting several of them last year.  Delicious but never as beautiful as the pictures.  Imagine.

She dragged the book out again this weekend and I was unsuccessful in distracting her from her mission despite half a bag of cotton candy and a Thai lunch.  So off we went to buy a relatively short ingredient list which included <gasp> boxed cake mix and canned frosting.  According to Sophie this was O.K. because, and I quote, "It is for the greater good."  

 Yes, I bought 5 different colors of decorator sugar.  And two bags of mini marshmallows, including a bag of multicolored flavored marshmallows.  Sophie said, "I will sort them."  And sort them she did.  All 200 of them.  Then dipped them in the sugar.

Then painstakingly applied them to each cupcake.  This was her project from start to finish.  I was available for emotional support and kitchen advice alone.

 Sophie coined a new term: carpal cupcake syndrome.

So often my instinct is to say "no" to some project that Sophie wants to try--it seems too complex, I will have to do the whole thing myself, and I don't have the energy or time to complete it.  Well, she proved me wrong.  The girl spent >2 hours on these cupcakes.  I wish I could be there when she brings them into her friends at school tomorrow.

 It felt good to say yes.  I should do that more often.