Marc wasn't able to come home from work until late on Friday, so I had to make the popcorn we had promised the boys they could have if they were good. Gabriel was very concerned that I would not be able to make popcorn as well as Daddy could. At first he complained about Marc not being home but I told him that I would just do my best and we would be fine.
At first, Gabe seemed ready to throw a fit, but in a surprising twist he decided to have a good attitude. He even decided to be encouraging and helpful. Unfortunately, his encouragements came off as just a tad condescending. He said: "This won't be so bad! With the help of the masters (referring to himself, Elijah and David John) I bet even you can make some popcorn as good as Daddy's."
I said, "Thanks, Gabe." It was really hard for me to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. After I had poured in the kernels and popped the first batch using the air popper, Gabe sampled it for quality control.
"You're doing a good job Mommy. It's tasting good already."
As I was putting more kernels in the air popper (our boys eat four batches of popcorn in one sitting), Gabe patted me on the shoulder.
"Mom, you are the best..... (I could tell he was about to say "popcorn maker" but then realized it wasn't true and had to come up with something else) Mommy in our family."
After all the popcorn was popped, Gabe gave me advice about putting the butter and salt on.
"You should shake the bag a little harder, Mommy."
"You should say 'That's enough salt.' Now you should say, 'A little more.'"
When it was all done, he tasted the finished product.
"Mmmmm. This is good Mom. When Daddy gets home I will tell him what a great job you did making popcorn."
I didn't trust myself to reply to that one. He is going to be a terrible back seat driver when he gets older.
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