"Mommy, do you want me to help?" Munchkin suddenly looked at the dishes on the table, and the delight shown in his eyes was like the look of a little wolf cub when it first saw a piece of lamb.
I began to fret. "Not for now. You go and play for a while. I'll call you when we get to the cooking part."
I gave a reassuring smile, but the truth was I knew I was going to be able to handle it at all.
I took stock of all the ingredients on the table, and there was no problem cooking a meal with them. I seemed to be missing a rolling pin for the pasta, so I had to go out and buy one.
As I thought about it, the milk in the fridge
was almost finished. I had better take Munchkin to the supermarket first.
"Munchkin, what kind of meatballs do you want to eat?" I asked casually as I arranged the ingredients.
Munchkin looked at the TV and replied without looking back, "Bolognese beef meatballs."
Fortunately, I had asked before leaving home.
There was no beef in the pile of ingredients. I remembered that I had heard that meatballs made with a pork and beef mixture tasted good, so I thought I would give it a try this time.
I made a mental note, packed everything up, then told Munchkin to get dressed.
"Mom, aren't there enough ingredients for you to make meatballs with?" Munchkin looked at me in surprise as I left the house.
"It's not enough to make you full." I pinched his nose. "There’s no beef in that pile of ingredients. Let's go buy some beef and some milk."
"Can I buy snacks, then?" The little guy’s eyes lit up.
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